Never Did Run Smooth
by Morgaine2005
Summary: The course of true love, as they say, never did run smooth. Anna and Kristoff are ready to wed, but with Kristoff's common background and war brewing on the continent, it won't be easy to convince Elsa's Council. Can Elsa manage to secure her sister's happiness while taking a stand for her own? Or will true love be forced to give way to politics? Cover credit to andavrii at Tumblr.
1. Saying Something Crazy

**This story is a sequel to my earlier massive fanfic, Winter of Discontent. Be sure to read that before you read this one – otherwise, you will be very confused!**

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><p><strong>Part 1: Winter<strong>

_Let me not to the marriage of true minds  
>Admit impediments.<em>

Shakespeare, Sonnet 116

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><p><strong>Chapter 1: Saying Something Crazy<strong>

Kristoff took a deep breath and knocked on the door.

It wasn't the door to Elsa's study. When Elsa had hired a private secretary last spring, her study had been reconfigured, and now there was another room you had to go through before you actually got to her. That was where the secretary sat and guarded the entrance to her real study.

Knowing he would have to knock on two sets of doors was not making Kristoff any less nervous. It made him wish he was still wearing his mittens, just to hide his sweaty palms. But it had to be done. It had to be done, because he had to talk to Elsa, and he had to do it _without_ Anna being around, because—

Because it was time, that was why. Because it had been a year and a half since they had met, and now he knew what he wanted, the one thing that he could maybe keep breathing without but that he couldn't _live_ without. Because Anna's birthday was in a week and if he didn't ask _now_ he'd never have time to get everything done.

He took another deep breath, wondering what was taking so long. That was when the voice came. "Come in."

Kristoff swallowed and opened the door.

Elsa's secretary – Moller, his name was, Master Moller – looked up when Kristoff came in. Master Moller always had a strange deer-in-the-lantern stare when he saw Kristoff. Kristoff always tried not to notice. Today it wasn't hard at all. "Um—hi. I was wondering—that is—is Elsa—I mean, can I speak with the Queen?"

_The Queen. That's right. Today she's the Queen. Maybe tomorrow—maybe after Anna's birthday—she can be Elsa. But right now, she's the Queen, and don't you forget it, Kristoff Bjorgman._

"I shall see if she is free. Please wait," said Master Moller, gesturing to the rock-hard sofa just next to the door.

Kristoff sat. Master Moller got up, knocked on Elsa's study door, and slipped inside.

Kristoff waited about ten seconds before he started to tap his foot and fidget. He tugged at the cravat around his neck and somehow just made it tighter. He tried not to tug at the vest, because that might make it wrinkle. He couldn't let it wrinkle, not today. Today was important. Not as important as Anna's birthday would be, but if he screwed things up today, he'd never get to Anna's birthday, and then—

He didn't know what he would do then. He did know that he didn't want to find out.

"Master Bjorgman?"

Kristoff vaulted to his feet. "Um—um, yeah? Hi?"

Master Moller's eyes were very wide as he stared at Kristoff. "Er—the Queen will see you now. She has a few minutes."

"She will? I mean—I mean, great. Thank you. I'll, uh—I'll go in now, then?"

Master Moller slowly nodded, holding the door open. Kristoff hurried inside.

Elsa sat at her desk, as always. The fire was burning today, which was a good thing, seeing as they were already two weeks into December. She let it go out sometimes, and generally she was the last to notice.

But she wasn't working. There was a sheaf of papers by her elbow, and there were faint ink stains on the tips of her fingers, but she was just sitting and—smiling? Kristoff found himself hoping she'd still be smiling at the end of all this.

"Good morning, Kristoff. Have a seat." Elsa waved to one of the chairs opposite her desk (which always felt too small and rickety to Kristoff), and he sat. "What can I do for you?"

Kristoff had a whole speech planned. He'd gone over it with Sven half-a-dozen times; he'd practiced it in front of the mirror. He knew that damn speech line for line, and it was the best he would ever come up with.

He couldn't remember a word of it now.

"Um …" he started to say, or that was what he wanted to say. It was at that point he realized that he couldn't remember the last time he had breathed and had to gasp a bit for air.

Elsa's eyes went very wide. "Are you all right?"

_No!_ he thought, but there was no turning back now. _Why_ did this have to feel harder than running straight into a whiteout to find Anna? He took another deep breath and realized he'd have to start saying something.

He started at the most obvious place. "Your Majesty … I love Anna."

Elsa had looked puzzled at the honorific and more so at Kristoff's declaration. "Er … yes?"

"No—I mean—what I'm trying to say is—" Kristoff ran a hand through his hair, remembering too late the amount of time he'd spent styling it. So much for that. "I—I _love_ her. More than anything. And I know—I know I'm not good enough for her," he said, figuring he might as well get that out of the way.

Elsa's eyes went wide in a way that Kristoff couldn't read. Not that he had much time to try right at the moment. "I know I'm not a prince or a nobleman. Or just, you know, a guy with money. Or even human parents. That I know about, that is, because I'm pretty sure I must have had some at some point, otherwise how would I be here? But—anyway. What I'm trying to say is—I love Anna. I want nothing more than for her to be happy. And I want—that is—I'd like—if I could do anything with my life, it would be to make her happy. Always. Every day, just … making her happy. And …"

Kristoff's flow of words dried up. All he could think of were the reasons why he shouldn't be asking this. Shouldn't be allowed to even think of this.

_But I love her._ It wasn't much—but it was all he had. And surely, in this kingdom ruled by a mistress of ice and snow, a woman whose powers could only be controlled by love, that had to mean something?

"Please, Your Majesty – just – let me try. For … for Anna."

Elsa had knit her brows together, and her head was slightly tilted. "Kristoff … what, exactly, are you asking?"

_Oh, SHIT! I never asked!_

Kristoff's throat went drier (was that possible?) and he tried to swallow with limited success. He took a deep breath.

It was at that point that a line from his speech actually came back to him. He grabbed it before it could wiggle out of his mind again. "I beseech—that is, I _humbly_ beseech you, Your Majesty, for—for permission to marry Princess Anna."

Elsa's face went blank.

It was the _bad_ blank, the one that not even Anna could read. It was like Elsa wiped all hint of expression from her face. Nobody could tell what she was thinking then.

But it could only mean one thing.

Kristoff took a deep, shaky breath. "You know, I'll just—I'll just go. Yeah. I'll go." Go _where_, though? Somewhere far away. _Very_ far away. "Thank—thank you for—" He started to get up.

"Kristoff, wait!" Elsa had leaped to her feet in the interim, meaning that Kristoff had to get all the way up in a hurry. "Don't—don't go. I didn't—that is—of _course_ you have my permission to marry Anna."

Kristoff's jaw fell. "Wait—what?"

Elsa smiled. "You have my permission to marry her. Or …" She raised an eyebrow at him. "Ask her to marry you?"

Even though he knew he shouldn't, Kristoff fell to the chair behind him. It creaked rather alarmingly, but Kristoff barely noticed. Elsa took her own seat at a more reasonable pace.

Without a word, she took the carafe of water on the desk, poured some into a glass, and held onto the glass for a moment. "Here," she said, holding the glass out to him. "Drink this."

Kristoff took the glass gratefully and drank. The water was icy cold. "Thanks," he said, putting it down.

Elsa just smiled.

"Not … not just for the water," he mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck. "I mean …"

"I know," Elsa replied, saving them both quite a bit of embarrassment.

They sat in companionable silence as Kristoff took another sip. It was amazing how much better he felt, with at least one of his big questions asked and answered favorably.

Of course … he still had to ask Anna. The thought made the nerves leap up and threaten to get the best of him. But Kristoff took a deep breath and forced them back.

"Um … so I … uh … I was wondering if maybe you might … help me?" Kristoff asked. "I—I haven't gotten Anna a ring yet."

"Oh?" Elsa asked. "Of course I'll help. Just—just tell me how much you need, and I'll see that it's taken care of."

Kristoff shook his head. "No, no—I have enough, it's just—well … you know what she likes, so I thought …"

"Oh. _Oh!_" Elsa smiled, and her eyes—lit up? "I'd love to!"

"Great! So, so I …" Kristoff fished a couple of papers out of his waistcoat pocket, which was supposed to hold a pocket watch, but he didn't actually have one. "The jeweler gave me some drawings."

Kristoff didn't mention that he'd had to flash his "Official Ice Master and Deliverer" medal before the jeweler would even part with that much.

He smoothed out the three colored drawings on Elsa's desk. Elsa leaned forward, brows knit, taking each in carefully.

But she made her decision without hesitation. "That one," she said, pointing to the drawing of the gold ring set with an emerald and two diamonds. Delicate crocuses had been etched into the band, and when Kristoff saw it, it seemed perfect.

"Really?" Kristoff grinned. "I mean—that was the one I liked best—but I wanted to be sure."

"She'll love it," Elsa said with a certainty that he couldn't argue with. "If you don't mind me asking … when were you planning on asking Anna?"

"Her birthday," he replied. "I thought—I mean—it seemed like the right time."

"It does," Elsa smiled. "Yes … it does seem like the perfect time."

There was something there, some other hidden meaning swimming below the surface. But it was like the fish he sometimes saw when he was out harvesting. Sure, he might be able to see it, but there was a foot or two of ice between him and it, and he wasn't going to get to it anytime soon. So Kristoff put it out of his mind.

"Yeah. So …"

Elsa smiled. "Good luck. And … er … Kristoff?"

"… Yeah?" he asked.

Elsa was twisting her hands together. "To—to make things easier—I think—it might be best if you had a title. A noble title," she clarified. "Just to … well … keep people from talking as much."

"A noble title? _Me_?" Kristoff asked.

"Just to make things easier," Elsa repeated. "Besides—saving the life of the heir, and by logical extension the monarch—there are many aristocrats whose ancestors gained their titles for less. Much less. I—perhaps I ought to have given one to you with the Great Thaw, really. But those are just details," she finished. "We—you and Anna and I—we can discuss what title would be best once—well, once you ask her."

The thought of a title still wasn't sitting well. He was pretty sure that adding "Lord of Such and Such" to his name wouldn't make a silk purse of this particular sow's ear. But … if Elsa said it would make things easier …

If it made it easier to marry Anna …

Kristoff could live with it.

"All right," he agreed. "If—I mean, thank you. And if you're sure."

"I'm sure," Elsa nodded. "Very sure. But—"

A knock from the door interrupted her. With an apologetic glance at Kristoff, Elsa called, "Yes?"

Master Moller looked in. "I don't mean to interrupt, Your Majesty, but Minister Falk will be here in five minutes to go over the news from Friezenburg."

"Of course," Elsa murmured. She sighed, and for a minute Kristoff thought he saw frustration and something like worry flash through her eyes. "I'll be done in a moment," she said to Master Moller.

"Yes, Your Majesty," replied Master Moller before he quietly left.

Elsa took a deep breath. "Kristoff, I am so sorry—"

"Hey—don't worry about it," Kristoff interrupted. "You already made my day—really. Thank you."

She smiled. "And you made mine. Kristoff—I can't imagine a man who would be better for Anna than you. I truly can't. Thank _you_ for everything you've done for her."

"Don't thank me," Kristoff shrugged. "It's … it's been …" Describing what it had been was not something he could put into words. Everything?

He shook his head. "I should probably disappear before your meeting."

"Not disappear," Elsa chuckled. "But—yes, perhaps."

She got up, and he got up too. But before he could leave, Elsa had moved around the desk. She stood in front of him, tentatively, before lifting her arms just a bit. "… Kristoff?"

It took Kristoff a second to realize what she was asking for. Then, just as tentatively, he stepped forward and hugged her.

It wasn't much of a hug. If Olaf had been around, he probably would have been giving them both a lot of pointers. But for Elsa—hell, for Kristoff—the fact that there was a hug at all probably meant a lot.

"Welcome to the family," Elsa said. "Not that you weren't part of it already," she laughed a little, pulling away. "But … officially now. Welcome."

"Thanks," Kristoff said, and meant it.

He took his leave of her then, because there really wasn't much else to say. He didn't look back—his mind was already going to the jeweler's, to Anna's birthday a week from now.

If he had, he might have seen the way Elsa took a deep breath, and twisted her hands together, and then held herself as if she was cold.

He would have most certainly wondered why.

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><p>"This," Anna sighed, "<em>this<em> has to have been my best birthday."

She turned to Kristoff with a smile, her skirts flaring around her ankles as she twirled. They were standing in the gardens, the dark broken only by strategically placed lanterns, while snow fell gently around them.

Kristoff smiled a little, the smile that made goose bumps form on Anna's arms and down her spine. "You said the same thing last year."

"Sure, but let's consider what I was working off of," Anna answered. "For the past thirteen birthdays …"

She frowned, thinking back. It wasn't that she hadn't had good birthdays. Far from it, her parents spoiled her rotten that day – chocolate chip pancakes for breakfast, piles of presents, a day spent with Anna in charge, calling the shots and naming the activities. But it was hard not to be disappointed when the one thing she wanted more than everything else combined was the one thing she never got.

"_She would be here if she could. Maybe next year,"_ her mother used to say. By the time Anna was twelve, she'd stopped even saying that.

Anna shook her head and pushed the thoughts out of her mind. She wasn't going to dwell on the sad times today. Not on her _birthday_, for Freya's sake.

And it _had_ been a great birthday. She'd started shortly before noon with chocolate chip pancakes, followed by building a snowman with Elsa and Olaf in the courtyard, followed by wandering through the town in the midst of the holiday shopping madness with Kristoff and Elsa (Elsa hadn't been nearly as traumatized this year as she had been when they tried it last year), followed by a late lunch at Jorgen's chocolate shop before they went back home. And from then on? Lazing, laughing, and enjoying themselves straight through dinner.

Elsa had excused herself afterward, claiming that she had paperwork to get through before she could get to bed. Anna had barely a minute to be disappointed before Kristoff suggested a walk in the gardens.

Which led them to where they were now, in the gardens, walking through the snow. Anna tilted her head up and breathed the clean, fresh winter air. "I love winter."

"I know, feistypants. You've mentioned." Kristoff put an arm around her shoulders and tugged one of her braids. Before Anna could do more than squawk in protest, he'd kissed the top of her head. "I'm glad you had a good day."

"And I did," Anna nodded. "You know …" She laughed. "You know, when Gerda brought the cake out and said, 'Make a wish!' I didn't even wish for anything."

She felt Kristoff go stiff before she saw anything. "You … didn't?"

"Well … no?" Anna looked up at him, frowning. "I mean, I've got Elsa back – and the gates are open – and I've got _you_ … and we've gone nine months without anything bad happening …" She raised one mittened hand to his cheek. "What else is there for me to want?"

Kristoff just smiled and shook his head.

"Hey," Anna murmured, "what's wrong? You've been … you've been _odd_ these past few days. Not that that's a bad thing, because hey, look at me! Odd central! But you—I don't know, it's hard to explain. You've seemed—preoccupied?"

"Anna—"

"And I mean, it's one thing when it's Elsa, because if I ask her what's bothering her, she'll tell me it's trade or tax policy, or whatever it is going on with Friezenburg, and she'll try to explain and my eyes want to glaze over and, um, _yeah_, but you—Kristoff—"

"Hey, Anna—"

"It's just, I'm here, you know? If something's bothering you. You can tell me anything, you know that, right?" Anna bit her lip. "Because I'm right here. For you. And if you need anything, if you _want_ anything …"

She didn't know how to go on. This – all of this – was something she'd never learned how to talk about, because talking about this was something that just wasn't done.

Because it all started with money.

She'd noticed it building since the autumn, when Kristoff suddenly stopped spending any money. Well, he did buy carrots for Sven. And he did replace his ice pick when the handle broke. But other than that – nothing. He'd had to patch his sweater _three times_ and he still wouldn't buy himself a new one. Anna was just waiting for it to go into the laundry, so she could steal it and swap it for one that wasn't coming apart at the seams.

And part of her felt horrible for even noticing, because that sort of thing wasn't supposed to matter. In a way it didn't, because Anna knew that between her allowance and her dowry lands she had enough for both of them and a small village besides, and Kristoff never had to go on another harvesting trip if he didn't want to. (The idea of Kristoff not wanting to was ludicrous, but the point remained.) But in a way it did matter, because something was up, and Anna had a horrible feeling that it was something _bad_, and he wasn't telling her what it was. He wasn't letting her help.

"Just don't—don't shut me out, ok?" Anna asked.

Kristoff's eyes went wide. "Wait, what? No! I'm not—I am _not_ shutting you out! I would—"

He stopped. But Anna knew what he was going to say. _I would never shut you out._

Hans had said that when he was trying to worm his way into her good graces. It was only natural – Hans had been playing the doting lover, and Kristoff, meanwhile, actually did love her. That they had once hit upon the same sentence only proved that Hans was a good actor. (It was the only thing he had ever been any good at.)

But the first time Kristoff had said that, Anna had frozen up, and it … hadn't been pretty. So now Kristoff didn't say that.

He did, however, pull her to him in a bone-crushing hug – the kind Anna liked best. She smiled into his shirt.

Then she took a deep breath and looked up at him. "But really Kri—"

In a year and a half (more or less) of courting, Kristoff and Anna had discovered there was only one reliable way to get her to stop talking: give her mouth something else to do.

Kristoff kissed her.

Anna moaned, reveling in the sudden warmth that extended from head to deep, deep down in her toes, putting her arms around his neck. The kiss was gentle and magical and fierce and hungry all at once—

And then it ended, not abruptly, but slowly, Kristoff's lips leaving hers so tentatively that Anna's heart skipped a beat. Kristoff rested his forehead on hers. "Anna … I love you."

"I know, and I lo—"

Kristoff kissed her again, just a peck this time, but it did the trick. "I love you more than anything, and—and—"

Without any warning, one of his legs – the one that had been broken earlier this year – seemed to give out, and he was on one knee.

"Kristoff!" Anna yelped, kneeling by him. "Oh my goodness! What happened? We need to get you inside!"

"What? No, Anna, you're supposed to stand up!"

"What are you talking about? Here, let me get you to a bench—"

"_Anna_—"

"Just put your arm over my shoulder, and—_Freya_, you're heavy—"

Kristoff cupped her face with his hands and kissed her breathless.

When they finally fell apart, Anna panting, Kristoff kept his hands on her face. "Marry me?"

"Whatever you want, big guy," Anna panted, "but let's get you to a—wait, what?"

Anna stared at Kristoff.

Kristoff stared back at Anna. She could _see_ the gulp move down the throat. "Will—will you marry me, Anna?"

Anna's jaw fell. "Are … are you serious?"

"Yes."

Anna's hands slapped against her mouth. He was serious. He had to be serious. He hadn't even made a crack about being on one knee, in the snow, what did she _think_ he was doing …

"Anna?" Kristoff asked, his eyes searching her face. She'd never seen him look so scared and so hopeful at once.

It was at that point Anna realized she hadn't given him an answer.

"YES!" she squealed, and she launched herself into his arms.

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><p>"And then he gave me the ring, and … oh, <em>gods<em> … Elsa, I don't think I've ever been so happy in my life."

"I'm glad," replied Elsa, and meant it.

They were where Anna had decided they would be ending the night: Elsa's bedroom, sprawled on the bed in nightclothes with a tray of chocolates between them. Anna had flopped back against the pillows, holding out her hand so that the candlelight flashed and shone through the emerald and diamonds. "It's a perfect ring, isn't it?"

"It is."

"And it's been a perfect birthday," she sighed.

Elsa didn't wince outwardly, but she did on the inside. She knew she'd be ruining that birthday in a minute.

"Anna …" Elsa scooted a little closer, trying to avoid upending the chocolate tray. "You … you know we can't go public with the engagement until the Council approves, right?"

"Huh?" Anna glanced up, still looking dazed. "But Kristoff said you already approved?"

"I did approve. But it's not just me who has to approve; the Council does as well. Because … well, you're my heir."

"Heiress presumptive," Anna muttered. "I thought the Council was just a formality, though."

"It is," Elsa hedged. "But all the same …" She shrugged. "It has to be done. You—you know that."

There was so much she was leaving unsaid, so much she was hoping that Anna would understand, all without truly understanding.

"Huh," Anna murmured. She looked at the ring and pouted. "But I don't want to take the ring off."

"You can still wear the ring. Here—hold out your hands."

Anna pulled her hands in, raising an eyebrow at Elsa.

"Anna, what do you think I'm going to do you? Or the ring?"

Slowly, Anna held her hands out. Elsa took the ring from her left hand and put it on her right. "Ta-da! Now it's not an engagement ring anymore."

"… Ok, you win this round," Anna conceded. "But no take-backsies on the permission!"

Laughing slightly, Elsa scooted closer and kissed the top of her sister's head. "No take-backsies, I promise. You'll be marrying your true love before you know it. Now, how many bridesmaids were you thinking?"

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><p>Late that night, after the chocolates had been eaten, the candles blown out, and Anna was fast asleep, Elsa lay awake.<p>

_I thought the Council was just a formality …_

Elsa turned to her side, watching Anna's chest rise and fall, listening to her soft snoring. She wished it could be that simple. She wished that the Council would simply give their approval quickly and painlessly.

She wished that she didn't keep thinking, _They would have approved of Hans in a heartbeat, before any of them had a chance to know him. But Kristoff?_

How many looked at Kristoff and saw a capable young man with a heart of gold? How many of them saw the man to whom they owed the life of their princess and indirectly their queen? And how many just saw an ice harvester, with no manners, no social graces, and (this would be far too important in the minds of far too many) a large question mark where his (human) parents should be?

She knew what the Council would find if they looked in Kristoff's antecedents. After all, Elsa had done it herself after the Great Thaw, when Anna and Kristoff were still feeling each other out and Elsa was trying to keep her sister safe while giving her a chance at happiness. Kristoff had been dropped off at an orphanage as a month-old baby. He'd lived there for the first seven and a half years of his life before he'd been apprenticed out to a troop of ice harvesters. (Elsa thought seven was absurdly young for that kind of thing, but Kristoff had apparently been a sturdy, well-grown boy who was quite big for his age. That, and the orphanage was under no little pressure from its backers to apprentice the boys and girls to "useful trades" as quickly as they could manage.) Six months after that he disappeared from the ice harvesting troop, only to reappear approximately five years later, rejoining them and making his living among them. From then on, his life had been an open book.

The Council would want to know what had happened in that five-year gap. But explaining about the trolls was the least of Elsa's foreseeable problems.

Finding terms that they would understand to explain why she thought Kristoff would be a good husband to Anna? _That_ was the difficulty.

Elsa reached for Anna, meaning to brush the bangs out of her eyes, or smooth the hair that was already puffing up like the head of a dandelion, but she let her hand fall limp and useless to the pillows.

_He loves her. She loves him. And that's all she wants – all she ever wanted. Why can't it be enough?_

Because that wasn't how the world worked. Because those who were born to privilege had certain responsibilities. Because to the minds of far too many, Anna was only the spare, the one whose duty it was to marry some foreign prince and bind another country's fate to Arendelle.

Anna deserved better than that. And for once in her life, Elsa would see to it that she got it.

Slowly she edged across the bed and lightly kissed Anna's forehead.

_You _will_ marry your true love, Anna. I don't care if I have to move heaven and earth to make it happen. I promise, you will marry the man you love even if it's the last thing I do._

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><p><strong>Cue dramatic music.<strong>

**Anyway, I hope you liked the first chapter! I have a five-chapter buffer, which I hope to keep, so don't look for an update for a couple of days. I promise that it will come soon, though.**

**Thanks for reading, and if you liked it, follow the story or leave me a review – and if you didn't like it, tell me why!**

**Until next time, folks!**


	2. Grasping at Normalcy

**Chapter 2: Grasping at Normalcy**

"I love the day after Yule," Anna sighed, clinging closer to Kristoff's arm as they made their way through the busy streets. "It's like … you think it's a normal day, but everyone has just enough holiday cheer left over that it's really a great day, and people are more like to smile, and everyone's just friendly …"

"At least until you go into a shop and see how many people are trying to return all of the gifts they got," Kristoff replied, hiding a smile as he glanced sidelong at Anna.

"Oh, stop! Just because something didn't fit properly didn't mean the thought wasn't appreciated."

"Have you ever been in a shop on the day after Yule?" Kristoff asked. "I'm telling you, it's vicious."

"Bustling, more likely."

"I think the bustling turns into vicious the first time someone tries to brain the shopkeeper with the tacky woodcut that they're trying to return and he's refusing to take back."

"Oh, please, that doesn't happen."

Kristoff turned to Anna with a grin and a raised eyebrow. "Wanna bet?"

Anna opened her mouth, but before she answered, she glanced sidelong into the nearest shop window. Kristoff looked as well.

There was bustle, he would definitely give Anna that. But if one were to look into the back corner, where the marked-down Yule decorations were, and see the two women making a beeline for the last holiday candleholder …

"Gambling is a terrible habit. I'm pretty sure every etiquette book I ever read – well, skimmed – well, ok, pretended to read – advised against it," Anna turning and continuing to lead Kristoff down the street.

"Unless you think you can win," Kristoff teased.

"If you know you're going to win, it's not gambling," Anna replied.

"… All right, you've got me there," he admitted. "But then what is it?"

Anna turned up to him with that secret smile he loved, the one that was brimming full of mischief. "Pressing the advantage."

"You mean 'taking advantage'?"

"That too," she agreed. "So, are you still all right with Rose Hip for lunch?"

"Sure," Kristoff replied. "Is that your way of saying that you're hungry?"

"Well, it is almost lunchtime … or it will be by the time we get there …"

Kristoff chuckled. "Lead the way, feistypants."

And she did, striking out confidently in the direction of the most fashionable tea room in town. Not that it had been the most fashionable a year and a half ago – or even a year ago. But once the nobility and the wealthy had figured out that the Rose Hip Café was Princess Anna's favorite, it quickly became their favorite as well.

Ironic, considering how Kristoff thought part of the reason Anna had liked it was that it wasn't completely fashionable – how it served up good food, good tea, and good coffee in a cozy atmosphere, without any of the pretension that came with some of the more fashionable places. Even today it tried not to be a pretentious place, for all that the new clientele sometimes were. But at least the food and the drinks were still good.

And when Anna really wanted to mix with the common folk, there were plenty of taverns around the city, and going to them was easy as tying a scarf over her hair and putting an old cloak around her shoulders (and praying Elsa never, ever found out).

The shop-bell tinkled when they came in, revealing that it was, as was to be expected, quite crowded. Part of Kristoff wanted to draw Anna closer, keep her by his side as the people pressed around, but … he knew better. This was Anna's element. She was already on her tip-toes, trying to spy if any of her (numerous) friends happened to be here.

It was that motion that attracted Mistress Blom, the shop's owner. She stepped out from behind the counter and hurried over to them. "Your Highness, what a pleasant surprise!"

"Hi, Mistress Blom! Happy – um – late Yule!"

"The same to you, Your Highness." She didn't curtsey – it was crowded enough that Kristoff doubted she would have the room – but she did bow her head and smile. "Let me show you to your table!"

Anna didn't ask if there was a table for them – she used to, but she'd realized that no matter how crowded the shop was, Mistress Blom always had a table for her. And well she should, Kristoff thought, looking around at the well-dressed patrons who had filled the tea shop to bursting. If Mistress Blom could keep this up, she'd probably be able to retire in a year or two if she wanted to.

Mistress Blom led them to a table tucked in an out-of-the-way corner, behind a screen that one of the waitresses was moving. It had three chairs around it, but it was easily big enough to fit five (or more, if they were Anna's size). Kristoff knew from experience that enough chairs for Anna's friends would always appear, no matter how many friends joined her at her table.

And there could be quite a few friends.

When they got to the table, Kristoff took Anna's cloak, then he pulled the chair out and pushed her in once she sat down. Gods knew that Anna didn't need to be treated like a china doll, but the first time he'd done it, she'd grinned so widely that Kristoff had to keep doing it again and again, just to see that grin.

He wasn't disappointed today.

"I'll put our cloaks away, ok?" he asked, and Anna nodded, handing him her mittens.

"Thanks!" she replied.

Kristoff only smiled before he braved his way through the crowd – not that it was that hard, people tended to make way when they saw his broad shoulders and undeniably solid form coming.

The last thing he heard, before the hubbub of the restaurant took over, was Mistress Blom exclaiming, "My, that's a lovely ring, Your Highness!"

Kristoff felt himself growing pink and warm all over – but he shook his head and hurried off to the cloakroom.

It didn't take long to hang up Anna's cloak and his coat, hats and mittens stuffed into the sleeves of his coat. When he came back out again, he expected to still see Mistress Blom standing by the table as Anna asked how all of her kids had enjoyed their Yule and what her husband was up to these days. That was Anna all over – she'd talk to anybody, get their life story out of them in ten minutes and be their friend for life before an hour was up.

However, that wasn't what he saw.

Kristoff's steps slowed as he saw the teal coat of a marine on the back of a man sitting in the chair to Anna's left – the one that was usually his chair. He knew that coat, and for that matter that back, and the slickly styled blond hair up above it.

Moller. Not Elsa's secretary – his brother, younger, Kristoff thought. A captain in the marines, with a smirk that always made Kristoff's hackles rise, and a complete lack of ability to leave Anna – or Elsa, when he could get to her – alone.

Anna was smiling at him, nodding along as he spoke, but Kristoff knew that look – it was her "I might be smiling, but it's only because I'm imagining the noise my hand would make when it connected to your jaw" smile. It was enough to make Kristoff smirk.

But he still had to get to Anna. He threaded his way through the crowd, catching Anna's eye as he did so. She perked up at the sight of him.

He edged his way around the table, because as luck would have it, the chair Captain Moller took was the one that wasn't snug against the wall. Once he got to that chair, he nodded to the other man, mostly because he had to. "Captain Moller."

"Ice Harvester," Captain Moller replied with a twitch of his lips.

"Ice _Master_," Anna corrected – she always did. "Ice Master and Deliverer. And on New Year's Day …" Now it was Anna's turn to smirk. "Kristoff Bjorgman, Greve Ismester."

Even if the title made Kristoff's cheeks turn a little red, seeing Captain Moller's jaw fall … well, that almost made the whole thing worth it. Or it would have, if the point of all this (Anna) hadn't already made it more than worth it.

Kristoff reached under the table, groping for Anna's hand. He swiftly found it, running his thumb over the ring.

Maybe … maybe there was a reason why Moller took his usual seat, and for Anna wearing the engagement ring on the opposite hand. Because if those things hadn't happened … well, he wouldn't be able to hold her hand, feeling the cool metal band against his skin.

But Captain Moller had to be talking, and Kristoff realized that he should be listening. "A Greve! Well, that is fantastic news! I must congratulate you!" He extended his hand over the table, and Kristoff realized that he should be shaking it.

He did. "Thanks," he said, forcing a smile.

"That is quite a jump for a man of your birth," Captain Moller smirked, and Kristoff tried not to wince. "Might I ask what brought on this new honor?"

Anna's hand gripped Kristoff's more tightly, forcing Kristoff to take a deep breath before he tried to come up with a reply. That must have been Anna's plan.

"Why should anything bring it on?" Anna raised an eyebrow. "He saved me. Fought off wolves and later a giant snowman, ran me back to Rosen, and then ran straight into a blizzard to get to me. And by saving me, he saved El—the Queen. Last I checked, most noble families didn't do anything near that to get their titles.

"In fact …" Anna leaned forward, chin on hand, wearing what Kristoff thought of as her "Princess Thinking – Danger!" expression. "Didn't your mother's family become noble because your great-grandfather was the king's secretary for a few years? No, wait – a few decades?"

Kristoff blinked, wondering where Anna had learned that – but he shouldn't have. The castle's library was very big, and in the course of thirteen years … he wouldn't be surprised if Anna had at least glanced in every book.

As it was, Anna was blinking almost coyly at the suddenly red Captain Moller.

The Captain swallowed. "That … is true …"

"So—if _he_ gets to be a Jarl—then I think becoming a Greve is rather the least you can do for someone who risked his life for the heir to the throne multiple times, don't you?" Anna kept batting her lashes at him, a somewhat silly smile on her lips.

Kristoff leaned back, smirking, eyebrows up, wondering that Captain Moller was going to say to this one.

"Perhaps … when you put it like that …" Captain Moller swallowed. "I simply find it odd that I am only learning this now. I would have thought my father would have mentioned it when Her Majesty brought the title to the Council for their approval."

And now Anna laughed. "Don't be silly! El—the Queen doesn't have to get the Council's approval to give someone a title."

"She … doesn't?" Captain Moller asked.

"Nope," Anna smirked. "It's all up to her."

"Ah—well—how interesting," Captain Moller hedged. "However, I must—"

The shop-bell tinkled again, and Anna looked up. Her eyes widened and she grinned. "Oh! It's Miss Bentsen and Miss Lise! Oh—and is that their mama, too?"

Captain Moller sat up ramrod straight, and even Kristoff gasped—it was something that happened to virtually all the young men of Rosen (of a certain social stature – and Kristoff supposed he counted for that now) when word came that the mother of the Misses Bentsen was in the room.

"Oh—my—will you look at the time," Captain Moller stammered, pulling his watch out of his pocket, looking at it upside-down, and shoving it back in the pocket. "I—I must apologize, Your Highness – Ice Master – but I truly must be going."

"Aww, you won't stay long enough to say hello to the Bentsens?" Anna asked, pouting, or at least pretending to.

"No, I fear—I have another pressing engagement. Good day, Your Highness."

And with that, he bowed and was gone.

Anna leaned back, smirking. "Works every time."

"Wait – you mean …?" Kristoff asked.

Anna turned to him with wide blue eyes and an innocent expression. "I must have been _terribly_ mistaken, Kristoff – though in my defense, that girl's bonnet," she gestured to where a pair of young ladies, accompanied by an older woman, stood by the door, "looks just like the one I gave to Lise for an early Yule gift."

And Kristoff chuckled. "Nice one, feistypants."

* * *

><p><em>Tap tap tap-tap tap.<em> "Do you want to build a snowman?" Anna half-said, half-sang, as she tapped on the private door to Elsa's study. She pushed the door open and went in without waiting for an answer.

Elsa was bent over her desk, frowning as she looked over a sheet of paper with impossibly tiny handwriting crowded all over it. She looked up, blinking owlishly at Anna. "Anna? I said—I thought I said we could spend this afternoon together?"

"You did! I'm coming to get you for lunch!"

"Lunch? It can't be lunchtime, Gerda just brought breakfast …"

Anna's eyebrows went up. She glanced at the small tray pushed to the side of Elsa's desk. There was breakfast on that tray – congealed eggs, rock-hard bacon, and probably stone-cold tea, by the look of it. "Er … Elsa …"

Elsa turned and looked, blinking rapidly. "Oh gods," she muttered, elbows on the desk and head cradled in her hands.

"Hey …" Anna slowly circled the desk, put a hesitant hand on Elsa's shoulder. Even after all these months, sometimes she still tensed when she wasn't expecting a touch. But that didn't happen today. "It's not a big deal. I mean, Gerda might give you a _look_, you know, but if you eat more at lunch, I'm sure she'll forgive you. She's forgiven me for worse!"

Anna had intended to get a chuckle out of that. She supposed she would have to settle for Elsa's snort. "And what's the matter, anyway? Most of your Council is out of town – and there haven't been any surprise delegations, no surprise prisoners … no surprise anything, really." The light caught on her ring, and Anna smiled. "Other than a surprise engagement, but I'm guessing the only one surprised by that was me."

Elsa smiled. "I did know before you did."

"And I bet you saw it coming for weeks and months ahead of time, huh?" Anna asked, turning the comforting touch into a side-armed hug.

"Not quite," Elsa admitted. "… Actually not at all. But …" She looked up, putting one hand over Anna's and squeezing it. "We all knew it was going to happen eventually."

"True!" Anna agreed. "But … that doesn't explain why you're so worried, sis."

Elsa blinked, her eyes growing clouded and closed off. She took a deep breath, shaking her head. "I …"

She sighed. "Well – Friezenburg is certainly part of it … I keep reading the reports over and over …"

Anna leaned forward, scanning the report as well as she could. "Why? It—it seems pretty simple to me. I mean, Friezenburg found some coal in … Garotia? But that's on the border with Corinthia, and now Corinthia wants to grab the province and the coal." She shrugged. "Seems to me like standard operating procedure."

Elsa chuckled. "It's not quite that simple."

"Well, no, I know Corinthia has some other excuse because most countries seem to think it's rude if you just go in and grab someone else's territory, even if they all do it given half a chance … but Elsa, what's it matter to us? It's thousands of miles away!"

"More like _a_ thousand."

Anna nudged Elsa's side. "One thousand, two thousand, what's the difference? It's still miles and miles away."

"Perhaps. But …" Elsa sighed, and then she reached into her pile of reports. She pulled out two pieces of creamy parchment. One was marked with the imperial seal of Friezenburg, the other with the seal of the King of Corinthia. She sighed. "They're both trying to get Arendelle on _their_ side."

"What?" asked Anna, pulling the letters closer. Not that she needed to read them very closely to get the gist. "Seriously? How much help would they think we're going to be? We'd have to _get_ there first, and if we go by sea, that means going around the whole darn continent, and if we go by land, we have to get through Corona – and how are you supposed to bring an army through Corona? I mean, it'd be one thing if we're on the same side as Uncle Leopold, but if we're not, then we're in big trouble, unless we want to start a war with them, which you're not going to do because that would just be dumb—"

"Anna," Elsa interrupted. "I … they're not asking for the army and the navy."

"Wait, what?" Anna asked.

In response, Elsa pointed to a single word that happened to be present on both of the letters: _personal_.

For a moment, it felt like all the air had been sucked out of the room, and Anna had to stifle a gasp. "No—no way. That's crazy. They're not suggesting …?"

Elsa looked up with half a smile and shrugged.

"But—but—that's crazy talk! I mean—what are you going to do? Make it snow on the army?"

"Oh, there is any number of ways my powers could make themselves useful," Elsa murmured. "Freeze a port – make a mountain pass even more impassable – cut off an army from its supply lines …"

"Wait—wait, whoa. Elsa – you could do that? I mean—the Great Freeze, you weren't _meaning_ to do any of that …"

"I know."

"And there's no way of knowing if you could do it again—I mean—you're good, but you haven't done anything on that scale since!"

"I know."

"Then why are they asking you to do it now?" Anna wailed.

"Because," Elsa replied, "_they_ don't know if I could – or could not – do it again. And …" Elsa bit her lip. "We … that is, the Council and I decided, very early on, that we would let the rumors of the extent of my powers flow unchecked. There wasn't much we could do to stop them, and, well …" She glanced up at Anna, wearing that nervous look Anna knew all too well. "It seemed the safest course. That is—making the other countries too afraid to attack seemed like a wiser course than frightening them enough that they would be convinced I was dangerous, but not _so_ dangerous that I could not be … removed …"

"So now they all think you can win their wars for them?" Anna asked.

Elsa shrugged. "Essentially. Yes."

"Gods," Anna muttered. "But you won't, right? You're not—you're not actually considering joining this stupid war, right? You're smarter than that!"

Elsa looked down at the letters, her eyes hooded, thoughtful. "I certainly have less than no desire to drag myself or Arendelle into all of this. I can't … I don't see how it's worth the risk." And Elsa frowned in that way she had, like she was working on a difficult math problem and was trying to find the logic that would solve the puzzle. "But the trick will be staying out without creating enemies. Or if we must pick sides – picking the _right_ side."

Anna frowned, rubbing Elsa's back without even thinking about it. "You don't owe either of these two anything. Why should you go fight their war for them?"

Elsa sighed and rubbed her forehead. "Because … because the world doesn't quite see things with your eyes, Anna."

* * *

><p>On New Year's Eve, Nick Solberg stood by the reception table at the ballroom in the Weselton Embassy, sipping at the glass of brandy in his hand. Maybe it would steady his nerves. His eyes never left the door for very long.<p>

"Öre for your thoughts?" asked a voice by his elbow. Nick nearly jumped.

Nearly. If he had learned anything in a year of being an ambassador, it was to never allow himself to be caught off-guard. _Especially_ by the diplomats under his putative authority.

So Nick turned to the man beside him with something like a smile. "Just waiting for the arrival of the Arendelle royal family, Master Pilkvist."

Master Pilkvist sniffed. He did that often. He too glanced to the doorway. "They've taken 'fashionably late' well past the point of absurdity. It's past eleven already."

Nick decided not to answer that. He knew why the royal family was not here yet: instead of attending a single party or holding one of their own, they made the rounds of many parties. It was a tradition they had started the year before, one that had the benefit of being easy on the castle staff, thrilling for Anna, and giving Kristoff and Elsa a break and some time away from the crowds and crushes of people.

He also knew not to expect the royal family before eleven, or perhaps eleven-thirty. _"We were thinking of saving your party for last – arriving before midnight, of course, but, well …"_ Elsa had shrugged when she spoke with him about it. _"You don't mind, do you?"_

Did he mind that Elsa would be closing out the night here? Not at all. Did he mind that she would be here around midnight, when …

Well, never mind that thought. The two of them had gone the better part of a year without causing more than rumors, deliberately left unconfirmed (and never denied officially, because _that_ never did any good). To let everyone at the Weselton Embassy know what they meant to each other via an ill-timed public kiss would throw months of careful discretion out the window.

"Interesting that the Queen chose to attend any embassy parties at all," remarked Master Pilkvist. He had a glass of vodka in his hand, which he sipped from. "I believe she did not do so last year."

"Last year she was still trying to reenter Arendellian society. This year can be different," Nick answered, forcing a shrug.

"Or last year she had no embassies she wished to visit, while _this_ year she does," Master Pilkvist shot back, eyebrows raised. "Myself, I believe the latter is more likely."

Nick rolled his eyes. "Believe whatever you wish, sir."

Master Pilkvist scowled before he forced his features to soften into a mere frown. "Ambassador, I should have a care if I were you. People are already talking. Should your … respect for Queen Elsa become misconstrued any more, they might begin _whispering_, and that—"

He never finished, and Nick was grateful. The door to the ballroom had opened, the butler standing at the head of it. "Her Majesty, Queen Elsa of Arendelle; Her Highness, Princess Anna of Arendelle; and … Master Kristoff Bjorgman."

The entire room looked up at the announcement, and Nick put his glass on the table. He bowed to Master Pilkvist. "You will excuse me, sir – duty calls."

Without waiting for an answer, he turned and hurried to the door.

The first thing he noticed as Elsa's shy smile upon seeing him, which was quickly replaced by a regal tilt of the chin and nod. She was wearing red velvet tonight, a ruby dress over a cream underdress. There were ribbons and criss-crosses of lace, and flowers of fabric on it, and there Nick's powers of description ended.

She was stunning.

Anna was there, too, and so was Kristoff – Anna waving when she saw him, and Kristoff smiling as much as he ever did at these kinds of functions. But etiquette demanded that he address the Queen first, and so he did.

"Your Majesty," he said, bowing. "Welcome."

"Thank you, Ambassador," Elsa replied with a gracious nod. She was very controlled this evening – putting on a show – and he couldn't blame her. "And thank you for the invitation."

"But of course," he replied. Then he turned to Anna. "Welcome, Your Highness."

"Hi!" she replied. She hadn't let go of Kristoff's arm, and Kristoff didn't seem likely to encourage her to do so. "Thanks for the invitation, N—Ambassador."

Nick just grinned before turning to Kristoff. Kristoff already had his free hand out for a shake. "Thanks," was all he said, but that was plenty.

Still, his duty as host wasn't quite finished yet. "Your Majesty?" he asked, offering her his arm. Elsa took it, her hand small and cool enough that he could feel it through his jacket.

For a moment he wondered if he ought to worry. Elsa's hands grew quite cold when she was upset. But they weren't radiating cold the way they sometimes did. It was probably just that she'd come in from outside. Elsa might claim that the cold never bothered her, but that didn't mean that she was entirely immune to temperature.

More importantly, he could feel her warming up already.

As host, it was his duty to introduce Elsa to some of the diplomats' wives (she already knew all of the diplomats and high-ranking attaches), see to it that she had some refreshment, and finally leave her alone and see to some of his other guests. But it didn't matter. They'd find each other sooner or later.

They always did at these parties.

It turned out to be sooner rather than later – Elsa had perfected the art of melting into a crowd. Usually Anna helped, simply by being herself, bright and chattering, getting carried away in a story and drawing her audience along with her. One minute Elsa would be standing by her sister's side, laughing and shaking her head at the appropriate intervals. The next moment, she would have slipped away.

When that happened, their unofficial meeting place was off to the side of the ballroom, opposite the refreshment table – Anna always ended up at the refreshment table eventually, and she tended to draw the crowds and the eyes. Being on the other end of the ballroom was the safest place.

So when Nick saw a flash of ruby out of the corner of his eye, he made his polite excuses, bowed to his conversational partners, and walked to where Elsa was standing.

She grinned when she saw him. He noticed that she'd made a fan of white ice, which she was in the habit of putting in front of her face whenever a gaze seemed to alight too closely on it.

"Happy New Year," she whispered when she saw him, reaching for his hand and squeezing it before letting go.

"Happy New Year," Nick replied. He stood by her side – not _too_ close – arms carefully clasped behind his back.

He had to be careful how he positioned himself. He'd discovered early on that the wrong angle meant that he was staring sidelong at her all night, his gaze skirting his spectacles entirely. Not only did that make it difficult for him to see her expression, it tended to lead to a headache.

He chose the right angle tonight, a good thing, for Elsa had a faint touch of a frown on her face. "Everything all right?" he asked.

She looked up with a bit of a startle. "What? Oh—oh, of course."

Nick glanced where she had been looking – but it was only Anna, dancing with Kristoff. Nick had to smile; Kristoff might not have been much of a dancer, at least not these kinds of dances, but even Nick could see how he was much better than he had been last summer, the first time he'd seen Kristoff dance at a ball.

There couldn't have been anything there that made Elsa look troubled and ill at ease. So she must have been looking at Anna while she thought of something else.

Unfortunately, Nick thought he had an idea as to what it might be. And never mind what etiquette had to say about appropriate conversational topics for a ballroom – he had no idea how to broach this topic at all, considering it probably involved state secrets and gods only knew what else.

_Friezenburg and Corinthia._

So he decided to approach it sidelong. "Visit many embassies tonight?" he asked, offhandedly.

Elsa looked up. "What? Oh—oh, yes." She started counting them off on her fingers. "Andalasia, Corona, Enchancia, Friezenburg, Corinthia … and now here," she finished, smiling.

"Friezenburg and Corinthia," Nick repeated.

"Of course. One mustn't play favorites," Elsa murmured.

Nick looked at her more carefully. To say that Elsa was pale was usually a bare statement of fact, but she was looking a little more translucent than usual right now. Slowly, Nick unclasped his hands and held one out, ever so slightly.

Elsa saw his hand and swayed her hip. Her full skirt swished, providing them just enough cover for her to clasp his hand behind the skirt.

It was cold.

Nick looked from side to side. No one was paying any attention to them. "Come on," he murmured. "Let's go someplace … else …"

"What, leave?" Elsa gasped. "Nick, are you mad? They'll notice!"

"Trust me," he replied. "I know at least six ways to escape from this ballroom. Nobody will be paying the slightest attention."

He glanced toward a side servants' door. He'd never been bold enough to attempt an escape here at the embassy, but back home he had made liberal use of servants' stairways and back halls. He'd also made sure he knew where all of the halls and stairs went here, just in case.

Still, he'd never tried this with the most beautiful woman in the room holding his hand …

_Once more unto the breach,_ he thought, took a deep breath, and made a beeline for the door, slipping through it with Elsa just before it closed.

They weren't safe, not by a long shot – but the hall was empty, and Nick was able to pull them out through another door, into a main hallway, before anybody came through. "There," he said, closing the servants' door behind them. "That wasn't so hard, was it?"

Elsa looked around in some surprise. "I—I know this hall …"

Nick grinned—and then he kicked himself. Yes, bloody _brilliant_, dragging the Queen through a side door and into a random hallway. If Elsa had brought guards along, he probably would have been gutted by now.

Or … perhaps not. He was fairly certain that every member of the royal guard knew what had happened at that warehouse last winter. Maybe he'd earned the privilege of having questions asked before the gutting.

"Yes," he said, "it's—well, my office is that way," he pointed, and he saw Elsa relax. "And there's a reception room here."

"Oh, good," Elsa replied, opening the door – seeming to relax even more when she recognized her surroundings – and leading him in.

If they wanted their conversation to remain private, he should have closed the door behind him. But … well, if anyone caught them, that would cause more than talk, or even whispers. So he left it cracked open.

He gave Elsa her space, watching as she stood in the middle of the room, looking out the window at the bright moon. She sighed, looking up toward the ceiling. "Frau Beringer asked me to create an ice-skating rink in the back garden of the Friezenburg embassy."

Nick blinked. For a moment he wondered why on earth the Friezenburg ambassador's wife would want a skating rink – there were more than enough in the city, and that was without Elsa's powers doing anything special.

Then he understood.

"And Signora Segreti had a special chandelier made just for the party. Like the one in the throne room at the palace," Elsa added, turning to Nick with a raised eyebrow.

He nodded, slowly. It was a distinctive chandelier, that – all bare iron and candleholders, easy for Elsa to decorate with ice crystals whenever she needed to frighten or impress someone (or both, he thought with a smile, recalling their first meeting).

"What did you do?" Nick asked.

"There was no polite way to refuse. In either case. But …" She shook her head, leaning against one of the sofas, clutching her arms as if she was cold. Nick fought down the impulse to walk over to her, wrap his arms around her, and not let go until she was warm again. "I'm not a fool. I'm _quite_ aware that news of this will heading back to Friezenburg and Corinthia on the first ships. There were several people," Elsa continued, bitter and biting, "at each party whom I could—_feel_ watching me, but whom I was most pointedly _not_ introduced to."

Nick nodded again.

Elsa sighed. "What both of them want is quite obvious."

"Indeed."

She looked up, questions in her eyes. _What do you think? What would you have done? Do you have any ideas?_

But she wouldn't ask them. And Nick could not answer even if she did. Because even when they were all alone in a reception room lit only by the moonlight, she was still a queen, and he was still an ambassador from a foreign land.

She sighed. "I shouldn't be burdening you with all of this."

"It's not a burden," Nick replied, even if part of him was glad to hear that it was _burdening_ him and not just _telling_ him.

She shook her head. "It can't be easy for Weselton, either."

He didn't answer right away, even if the phrase left the door open for a confidence. What could he say? No, it wasn't easy for Weselton. They'd spent the better part of the past year trying to repair alliances broken off in the aftermath of Elsa's coronation, when other countries fed up with years of cheating and malfeasance from the Duke seized the opportunity of an angry Queen with gods-only-knew-what power as an excellent excuse to toss one-sided trade agreements to the side. And now their hard work could come to naught in many countries, all because of actions outside their control.

"We'll survive," he finally replied. Nick smiled. "Weselton is good at that. You'll see."

Elsa smiled in reply, but even in this light, Nick could see that it was a sad one.

"Elsa …" He stepped closer. She didn't move away. He closed the distance between them, putting an arm over her shoulder.

Elsa – there was only one word for it – she melted against him. Nick folded her close, eyes closed, breathing in the scent of her skin and hair. _Like peppermint,_ he thought as he always did, _and fresh snow._

And perhaps a hint of chocolate.

"They can't force you into anything you don't want to do – you know that, right?" he whispered, low enough that even spies, if there were any, wouldn't be able to hear.

"They can make it very difficult to refuse."

"True—but you're the Snow Queen. I'm sure you can think of something to make them regret that they tried."

She chuckled, shaking her head against him, though whether it was a pleased-if-exasperated shake or a mark of disagreement, Nick couldn't tell.

"But Nick," she started, "that isn't—"

She stopped – cut off, really, by sound of bells in the distance. "Is that …?"

Nick looked up. "Midnight." He smiled down at her. "Happy New Year, Elsa."

"Happy New Year," Elsa replied.

"Er," Nick hesitated. "You—you do know that there's a tradition …?"

She only licked her lips – and that was all the encouragement Nick needed to bend his head, hold her tighter, and kiss the woman who had made the past year one of the best in his life.

* * *

><p><strong>Well, THAT was a fantastic response for a first chapter!<strong>

**Thank you IkLachomZwaartekracht, TheHumanCanvas, homers8736, fericita, grrlgeek72, Jacob Flores, MagicOfDisney, Batman1809, stillslightlynerdy, CrunchDeNumbers, RJCA27 (did I answer your question about NickXElsa?), Insectoid, Jedi-Jae, and Luv-U! I am so glad you liked what you read in Chapter 1. Hopefully this chapter has answered some of your questions.**

**Next chapter: 1****st**** council meeting, among other things. ;)**

**Until next time!**


	3. Throwing the Gauntlet

**Chapter 3: Throwing the Gauntlet**

On the morning of January the second, Elsa stood outside the door to her Council chamber and took a deep breath.

Kristoff – now Greve Ismester – and Anna were right behind her. Anna had already switched the engagement ring to the proper hand. Elsa wasn't going to worry about that. No matter how this meeting went, she was sure that news or at any rate rumors of Kristoff and Anna's engagement would be all over the city by nightfall.

"Everything ok, Elsa?" Anna asked.

Elsa froze. Then she forced herself to relax. "Of course."

"It's just, you don't look—" Anna started.

She stopped when Kai came out of the chamber. "They're ready for you, Your Majesty," he said, nodding to Elsa.

"Excellent. And the extra chairs?" Elsa asked.

"Also ready."

"Thank you, Kai. You're a treasure." Elsa glanced behind her, at Anna and Kristoff with their linked arms. Anna was blushing and radiant, the picture of what a bride-to-be should be. Kristoff had forced himself into a suit and looked awkward, nervous, and uncomfortable.

_The picture of what a groom-to-be should be._

With that heartening image in her mind, Elsa took another deep breath, rolled her shoulders back, and sailed into the Council chambers.

Every one of her councilors stood as she entered and remained standing until she sat. "Good morning and happy New Year, everyone," Elsa began, nodding to each of the twelve in turn as they took their seats. "I understand we have a great deal of business to attend to today. However, there is one item I should like to announce first."

She forced in another breath and nodded at the door, where Anna and Kristoff were still standing. They made their way inside (a bit tricky, given that the door would not fit the both of them arm-in-arm. But Anna wasn't letting go for anything, and Kristoff didn't seem inclined to let go either).

Elsa was quite sure that the way Anna was holding her left hand so that the ring showed was no accident.

She turned back to her councilors, each of whom was staring at Anna and Kristoff. "Kristoff Bjorgman, Greve Ismester, has asked for Princess Anna's hand in marriage. Princess Anna is willing, and I have given my blessing to the match. Now all that remains is for the Council to approve it, and then we can start planning a wedding."

Silence.

Elsa didn't dare to look at Anna and Kristoff – especially not Anna. She couldn't see the hope and happiness die from her sister's eyes, only to be replaced by confusion, doubt, and sadness. So Elsa tilted her chin up, eyes narrowed, daring her Council to break her sister's heart.

What happened next was not what she had been expecting.

Madam Voll, the Chief Justiciar, shot out of her seat with what could only be described as a whoop. "I KNEW IT!" She ran around the table to hug Anna, who squealed and returned the embrace. "I knew we'd be getting an announcement as soon as I saw that ring! Didn't I say so, Gudrun?"

Gudrun Tennfjord, Chancellor of Arendelle, sighed and rested her forehead on her hand. "You did indeed, Lovise."

"And now we've got it! Oh, you will be _lovely_ bride, Your Highness!" She pulled back with a smile. "Now simply must tell me. How many babies were you thinking?"

Anna laughed. "Oh, a dozen at least!" Kristoff looked like he'd been punched in the stomach.

"That's the spirit! Oh, congratulations, you two!" Madam Voll embraced Anna again, and then she gave a startled Kristoff a hug. "From me and from the whole Council, I'm sure!"

More silence.

Madam Voll stiffened. She turned around and surveyed her fellow councilors over her pince-nez. "You're all going to be sticks in the mud about this, aren't you?"

"Lovise," Chancellor Tennfjord warned.

"No, hang politics, Gudrun, I'm not backing down on this. This is a lovely young couple, and heaven knows that Master Bjorgman—er, that is, _Lord Ismester_ has more than earned a Princess's hand in marriage! And didn't we all learn about a year and a half ago that princes aren't all they appear?" She folded her arms in front of her, glaring at each councilor in turn.

A discreet cough from the far end of the table sent all eyes away from Madam Voll. Elsa quirked one eyebrow before schooling her face back into impassivity.

The cougher was Lady Sylvi Raske. Elsa folded her hands on the table and watched the older woman. She was Elsa's newest councilor, the representative from Letemark who had replaced Councilor Arud when he resigned (more or less) following the events of the previous winter.

Not for the first time, Elsa found herself running through all that she knew about Lady Sylvi. She was a scion of one of Arendelle's oldest families, the wealthiest woman in Rosen (not counting the royal family). She had proven herself to be a paragon of good sense. She had an unflinching devotion to duty, doing what was Right at the expense of what was Easy.

She was also married to Captain Vilmarsen, Captain of the Rosen Town Guard. They had a seven-year-old son, and by all accounts they were exceptionally devoted to each other. Elsa was still trying to wrap her head around that one.

All told, she was not sure what to expect Lady Sylvi to say … but when she said it, Elsa was not entirely surprised.

"We're not all going to be sticks in the mud, Lovise." Lady Sylvi turned to Anna and Kristoff with a warm, welcoming smile. "Congratulations, Your Highness, Lord Ismester. I am sure you will be very happy together."

"And your marriage will be a good thing for the realm, too!" added a voice Elsa had not expected to hear, or at least had not expected to hear so soon – Treasurer Akselsen.

No one else seemed to have expected it, either, to judge by the way every head turned to him. But the little man was not to be deterred. He straightened his waistcoat and sent a glare around the table, sparing only Elsa, Madam Voll, and Lady Sylvi. "It's—it's high time that Arendelle joined the nineteenth century. Blood—bloodlines aren't as important as they used to be. Better for a young man to have a sound head for business, for economics, than the best breeding in the world but no conception of how the world actually works!"

Elsa found herself blinking in surprise and was rather gratified when Jorn Hagebak, the representative of Cajhus, gasped, "What on earth is that meant to refer to?"

"I'm saying—I'm saying, rather than some young man with a sterling pedigree and a mind full of hunting, gambling, and … other things – or gods forbid, one only with an eye toward power! – better a man who's worked, who knows the value of an øre, and who understands how finance works!"

"Um …" Kristoff started.

Treasurer Akselsen held up a hand. "Not high finance – nobody understands howthat works – but true finance, how money moves from one part of the market to the other, how to save and how to spend. _That_ kind of thing." And he glared around the table again, daring anyone to disagree with him. "His ideas regarding the ice trade were most invaluable. Most invaluable. It's thinking like that which will get us ahead on the Continent, not a 'marital alliance' to a young man whose name was drawn from a hat!"

"But surely an alliance is to be desired?" asked Councilor Hagebak. Well, Elsa should have known better than to continue to expect support. "We—our nearest marital ties are to Corona and Andalasia. And what with … everything …"

"Princess Anna being married out of the country against her express will and desire is out of the question," Elsa replied in a tone that could only be described as icy. "In fact, her marrying anyone other than the man whom she has freely chosen is out of the question. I won't hear of it, ladies and gentlemen."

Once again, silence fell over the table. Elsa drew herself up, shoulders back, chin up.

"But … Your Majesty …" Councilor Hagebak looked to the Foreign Minister, Bernt Falk, obviously requesting backup.

Minister Falk didn't say anything.

"Surely … surely with … everything?" Councilor Hagebak went on. "I can't be the only one who …"

_Thump!_ "Blood will tell!" said Councilor Moller, representative of Grums. He scowled around the table. "There! I've said what we're all thinking. Blood _will_ tell. Is there anyone who—"

He looked around the table, his gaze coming to rest on Lady Sylvi with something like polite disgust. "Well—anyone whose view on the matter isn't thoroughly compromised who disagrees?"

Judging by the throbbing vein at the side of Treasurer Akselsen's head, to say nothing of the points he had been attempting to make, Elsa rather thought he did. But she spoke before he could. "I certainly disagree, Councilor Moller. We have all known blackguards who come from some of the best families … and we all have known men and women whose background may not be quite as esteemed, but who nonetheless have proven themselves to be noble in the most ancient of ways – through their actions."

Councilor Moller frowned. "With all due respect, Your Majesty, this is the real world, not some children's fairy story where 'true love conquers all' and a princess marries a peasant and no one bats an eye."

Elsa took a deep breath, a carefully-worded retort arranging itself in her mind—

She never got to say it. "_Seriously_?" Anna snapped. "Did you just say that out loud?"

"Your Highness—"

Anna stepped forward, eyes smoldering, hands balled in fists at her side. "True love does conquer all! Or was I the only one paying attention when I _froze_ and then _thawed_ because—"

"Anna!" That was Kristoff, coming forward with a hand laid gently on Anna's shoulder. "It's ok. Just—calm down. Getting upset is not going to help. Ok?"

Anna looked up at Kristoff, and Elsa turned her head. To look now would be to intrude. Besides … her Council wouldn't have a problem with intruding. And she could learn much more by watching them.

Unfortunately, Elsa was not the only person in the room who knew a thing or two about concealing her emotions. Madam Voll and Lady Sylvi both openly showed their approval, and Councilor Moller had no difficulty revealing his disgust, but other than that, Elsa saw nothing she could use.

She took a deep breath and stepped into the silence. "Ladies and gentlemen, arguing and shouting will get us nowhere. And I will not tolerate any harsh or cruel words directed toward Princess Anna or Lord Ismester. I should prefer instead," Elsa laid her hands on the table to center herself, "to hold a preliminary, non-binding vote on this matter, so that all of us know where we stand. Are there any objections?"

Her councilors knew better than to object when she spoke in that tone. One by one, they shook their heads.

"Very well. We shall go around the table, one by one. Chancellor?" Elsa asked, turning to the person who was her right-hand woman in both a literal and a figurative sense.

But if she was hoping for good sense, strong reasoning, or even a clear-cut opinion, she was doomed to be disappointed. Chancellor Tennfjord's eyes were inscrutable as she surveyed Anna and Kristoff. "I am sorry, Your Majesty, but I must abstain from voting at this time. This is a momentous affair, and I need some time to consider it."

Madam Voll usually sat next to the Chancellor, but though she wasn't in her seat, she wasn't shy about her opinion, either. "You know how I feel about it!" she declared. "I'm already planning the twelfth naming gift. Aye, I'm in favor!"

Elsa bit back a smile before turning to the man who sat on Madam Voll's right, Jarl Casper, Jarl of the Western March and head of Arendelle's armed forces.

His brows were furrowed, gaze unblinkingly fixed on Kristoff in a way that Elsa couldn't read. "I fear I must abstain as well, Your Majesty. There are some … well, there are some things I need to think about."

Trying to fight down the disappointment, Elsa only nodded and turned to Minister Falk.

"I too must abstain. This is a weighty decision, Your Majesty, and I should very much appreciate the opportunity to confer with you in private about it."

The worry and disappointment, even if she knew she ought to have expected this, were getting harder to fight. Still Elsa nodded. "Of course. Treasurer Akselsen?"

"Aye," the Treasurer replied, looking around the table as if daring anyone to take issue with it.

With the exception of Bishop Elias, who sat to Elsa's left, that was the last of the officers of the Council. Now it was time to turn to the representatives. First in terms of seniority and by virtue of his position at the table was Halvor Vang, representative of Alemecht.

The old man watched Anna and Kristoff steadily, frowning, arthritic fingers steepled together. He shook his head. "Nay."

Elsa held her breath, expecting a long speech. She never got it. With a single nod, and not daring to look at Anna and Kristoff, she turned to the next representative. "Councilor Omdahl?"

Renate Omdahl was the representative of Sorgaland, a woman with a throaty chuckle, a sultry smile, and a mind sharper than most of the swords in the armory. "I also must abstain for the present. You did spring this on us with very little warning, Your Majesty."

"Very well," Elsa replied, forcing a polite nod. "Councilor Moller?"

"Nay!" Councilor Moller snorted, and nodded, as if he'd said something brilliant and self-evidently correct.

Elsa ignored that. "Councilor Hagebak?"

For a moment she almost felt sorry for the man. He'd never been anything other than kind to her, even just after the Great Thaw when most of her Council was still treating her like they expected her to explode in ice spikes at any moment. Now he was looking up and down the table, eyes still wide with shock.

Still, he shook his head. "Nay," he said.

Three nays. She needed nine ayes – eventually – if Anna was to get permission to wed. "Councilor Steensen?"

The representative of Buskefold, Kare Steensen ought to have been one of the first behind Kristoff. Buskefold made much of its wealth (such as it was) off ice-harvesting, and Councilor Steensen himself was a product of a marriage not unlike Anna and Kristoff's would be. But he looked up, impassive, and said only, "Nay."

_Four nays? Damn and blast._ But it wasn't over yet. Elsa swallowed.

That left only two people. The first was Lady Sylvi, who smiled at Anna and Kristoff and said, "Aye."

The last was Bishop Elias. Elsa straightened her spine, waiting for the inevitable nay, followed perhaps by a lecture on the fitness of things and the importance of staying in one's station in life.

It didn't come. "Aye," he said. "Mas—er, I'm apologize, _Lord_ Ismester, Your Highness, I am sure you two will be very happy together when you wed."

"But they won't!" Councilor Moller said. "The Council has to approve the marriage of the Queen's heir by a three-fourths majority. Even if everyone who abstained were to eventually vote in favor, the ayes won't have it!" He leaned back, looking uncommonly pleased with himself as Anna's face fell and Kristoff seemed to sag.

_But it's not going to be that easy, Councilor._

Elsa took a deep breath. "Not at all, Councilor. While it's true that a three-fourths majority is necessary for the Council to approve of the marriage, this issue is not put to rest yet."

"But Your Majesty—"

"First," Elsa counted on her fingers, "this was only a preliminary vote, not a final one. It was meant for us to know where we stand. I specifically said it was non-binding. There is plenty of time for certain parties to change their minds.

"Second," Elsa continued, "even if this was a binding vote, there is nothing – _nothing_ – in the law that says that the Council must approve the heir's marriage on the first vote. All that is required is that the Council approves before the marriage takes place. It does not matter if it takes one vote, two votes, or a hundred votes."

Was it Elsa's imagination, or had Councilor Moller's eyes gone wide as he glanced from side to side, visibly questioning his compatriots?

"Third – and arguably most importantly – there is equally nothing in the law that states that the Council which approves the marriage must be identical to the Council to which the question was first put."

Elsa folded her hands together and waited for the meaning of that to sink in. To judge by the way Councilor Steensen's face swiftly lost color and Councilor Moller's eyes widened, it soon did.

"You—all of you—serve at my pleasure. I can dismiss any one of you at any time and for any reason. Denying my sister her happiness is, in my mind, an excellent reason for dismissal. So I urge you to think on that very carefully before you cast your final vote on the matter."

Elsa looked at each of the Councilors in turn – even the ones who had already voted aye – letting them see she was serious. Then she made as if to straighten the papers before her (difficult, as there were no papers at the moment).

"That being said, I am more than happy to hear anyone's concerns about this match, and I am willing to work with all of you to achieve a favorable vote. I should like to meet with all of you individually to hear your thoughts on this matter. Please speak with my secretary, Master Moller, to set an appointment at your convenience. Now—are there any other concerns to be raised, regarding my sister's marriage?"

Twelve heads shook. Elsa nodded. "Very well … Anna, Kristoff, if you wouldn't mind …?"

Anna's hands were still balled in fists, and she was trembling. It was Kristoff who nodded. "Of course. Come on, Anna." He put an arm around her shoulder and led her out.

The door shut behind them. It was a very well soundproofed door. Whatever Anna said as soon as it was closed – and Elsa was sure she had quite a bit to say – Elsa wouldn't hear it.

Not until later.

Elsa swallowed and turned to the Chancellor. "Next order of business, Chancellor Tennfjord?"

* * *

><p>When Elsa's Council meeting was finally over, when all the councilors had finally left, when it was just Elsa in the Council chamber, <em>then<em> Anna barged in with Kristoff on her heels.

"You _knew_!"

It was not a question.

Elsa was sitting at the table still, slumped, forehead propped on her hand. Anna watched as she took a slow, deep breath. "Anna."

"You _knew_ this was going to be a problem. You knew they were going to react like this!" Anna went on. She heard something that sounded like a door closing, but didn't look back to check.

Elsa didn't answer right away, even though Anna's heart was pounding, even though her fists were clenched and shaking, even though every muscle in her body was tensed and ready to spring.

"… Yes," Elsa finally admitted.

"And you didn't tell me! You sent us in there with _no warning_ and—Elsa—you _shut me out_ again!"

If anyone else had made Elsa cringe like that, Anna would have seriously considered proving to them that her right hook was just as painful as rumors insisted it was. "It wasn't like that, Anna."

"Oh, really? Because where I'm standing, it's exactly like that."

She had thought they were done with this. Thirteen years of lies and hiding and _not telling Anna things_. Wasn't that enough? Wasn't the majority of their lives to this point more than enough? Would it have been too much, really too much, to let her know what was going on and what to expect?

"No. No. It's not." Elsa had her eyes closed, and she was twisting her hands around each other. "I just—it's not your problem. I didn't want to trouble you—"

"Not my _problem_? It's _my wedding_!"

"Our wedding," Kristoff mumbled.

That made Elsa's eyes flicker open. And for a moment, Anna saw something that looked like guilt.

"Oh, _now_ you're feeling guilty? Because you didn't let Kristoff know what was going on? Damn it, Elsa!" Anna pounded her fist on the table, making Elsa jump. "I'm your sister! I'm your heir! I can _help_!"

"No!" Elsa looked up. She'd barely said anything, but she was starting to pant. Somewhere in the back of Anna's mind, faint alarm bells were ringing. She ignored them. "No, this—this is not your—"

"Concern? Don't you dare tell me this isn't my concern!"

"Your _burden_, Anna!" Elsa stood up. Anna could see that her hands were shaking and the pants were coming more quickly. She turned away, hands clutching her middle, head bowed.

The alarm bells started to ring with more force.

"I will fix this," Elsa said, her back still to Anna. "I _will_ take care of this. You _will_ marry Kristoff. I just need some time."

"Odin's beard!" Anna flung both her hands out, hearing something that sounded like Kristoff jumping back. "That's not what this is about!"

Elsa straightened. "It's not?"

"It's not?" echoed Kristoff.

"No—and don't you start!" she said to Kristoff. "You—you stay out of this!"

"Anna—"

"No! And Elsa—" Anna stood still, trying to come up with _words_, words that would work, words that would mean something and be more than the pointless rambling she'd created to fill up so many lonely, cold, and utterly empty hours.

When you had no one to talk to for so long, just the sound of your own voice to fill the silence, you forgot – or never learned in the first place – what it took to make people listen.

"You're shutting me out. _Again_. That's what this is about." Elsa cringed again, and Anna knew she had found the right words. Cringing meant she was listening; cringing meant that she was hearing. "You're not telling me things. You're—you're assuming that it's better that I don't know! That it's not my problem! _It is_! It was thirteen—ok, _fourteen_ years ago, and it is today!"

"I'm just trying to protect you, Anna!" Elsa fired back.

"Oh, great! Trying to protect me! Because _that's_ worked so well!"

Elsa seemed to fold into herself, her head bowed so that Anna couldn't catch a hint of an expression.

"I am not a child, Elsa. I do not need protection, and I don't need to be kept in ignorance anymore. I shouldn't have been in the first place! _That's where all of our problems came from_! And now you're doing it again!

"_Why_, Elsa? What do I have to do to prove to you that I'm ok? That I can handle this? What do I have to do to keep you from shutting me out—"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Anna. _Calm down_." Kristoff planted himself in front of her, hands on her shoulders.

"Ugh—_Kristoff_!"

"You're upset. I get that you're upset. You have every right to be upset. But right now, you need to _calm down_."

"Damn it, Kristoff, don't you—"

"Deep breaths, Anna," he said. Even through the fog his breath was making, Anna could see that his eyes were intense, boring into hers, begging her to—

_Wait—_

_Fog …_

The anger rushed out of her, constricted by the cold. Slowly, she shifted so that she could see around Kristoff.

Her sister was still standing on the opposite side of the room, still hunched over, her breath coming in short, quick pants.

It was very, very cold in the room.

"… Elsa?" Anna whispered.

Elsa shuddered.

For a minute Anna froze. She knew what to do, sort of, when Elsa got into a state. The important thing was to speak gently and softly, to make sure she had time and space to recover, and to let her know that everything was going to be all right.

But the problem was that the last time Anna had been directly responsible for Elsa getting into a state was … well … the time she'd gotten her heart frozen.

She didn't think Elsa was to that point yet. For one thing, there was no snow, just cold. And … well, the last time Elsa had gotten to that point (which had nothing to do with Anna), Hans was on the loose and her stables had been burned down and there were all those pamphlets and … it hadn't been a pleasant time for anyone.

Anna stepped around Kristoff, and Kristoff let her go forward. She walked slowly and quietly, making just enough noise that Elsa would know she was coming. "Hey … Elsa?"

"I'm fine," Elsa said.

Anna rolled her eyes. "And I'm the sultan of Agrabah."

That made Elsa giggle, though it came out sounding more like a snort.

Slowly, Anna put her hand on Elsa's shoulder, ready to jerk it away if Elsa reacted badly. She'd learned to stop being hurt when Elsa didn't want to be touched when she was in a state. Mostly. Sort of.

Today wasn't one of those days. She felt Elsa's shoulder muscles relax. Anna started patting her. "It's ok," she whispered. "It's ok."

In the year and a half she'd had her sister back, she'd learned that saying this was sometimes the best way to help her through these states, and sometimes it was the only way.

Today it helped. Anna felt the room get warmer first. It took a few moments more for Elsa's breathing to slow and steady. It took longer still for her bunched-up muscles to relax fully.

Finally Elsa seemed to wilt. She pushed her bangs back from her face. "I'm … I'm sorry about that."

"Don't be," Anna said, as she always did. "It happens. It's ok. Do you want to sit down?"

Elsa didn't answer at first. But she bit her lip, and she nodded. Her hand still on Elsa's shoulder, Anna coaxed Elsa back to her seat. She sat next to her, not moving her hand away for a second.

Kristoff took the chair on Anna's other side and took her free hand in his.

Elsa didn't speak right away, which Anna was expecting. What she wasn't expecting was what Elsa actually said. "I just wanted you to have a nice holiday."

_Wait, what—oh._

"Elsa—"

"Why should two—_three_ of us be worried and anxious?" Elsa asked the table. "There—there was nothing you or Kristoff could have done to make the Council think differently. Not in a week and a half's time. So … why should I burden you with it?"

Anna glanced at Kristoff. Kristoff was watching Elsa. He glanced at Anna, eyebrow raised.

That gave Anna the courage to say what she said next. "Because it's not always about doing things, Elsa. Sometimes it's enough to just … be there. And help. And, you know, this _is_ about us—"

"I know," Elsa said. "And—and perhaps I ought to have warned you both."

Anna said nothing, not trusting herself to say the right thing, or anything other than the wrong thing.

Elsa didn't lift her eyes up from the table. "I'm sorry."

Now it was time for the tension to slip from Anna's shoulders. Kristoff squeezed her hand.

"It's ok," Anna said, patting Elsa's shoulder again.

Elsa looked up, disbelieving blue eyes staring into hers.

"I mean it. It's ok, Elsa. You made a mistake. Even you do it from time to time." Anna jostled her shoulder a bit. "Proves you're human like the rest of us."

Elsa snorted, and Anna knew she'd won.

"Besides … I'm sorry too. For going off on you like that. Maybe I should have …" Anna shook her head. "Well, too late now. I am sorry, though."

"You don't have to apologize."

"I want to."

Elsa smiled.

They sat like that for a few moments, Elsa staring at the table, Anna watching Elsa's breathing, and Kristoff holding Anna's hand. Finally Kristoff cleared his throat. "Did … did you, um … Elsa …"

That made Elsa look up.

"Did you mean it, when you said you'd be sacking people, for … well … us?" asked Kristoff.

Anna watched Elsa blink, very slowly. "Yes."

"Can we put Moller at the head of the list of people to be sacked?" Anna asked.

_That_ made Elsa laugh.

"Well?" asked Anna. "Can we?"

"Oh, trust me," Elsa replied. "If there's any sacking to be done, he'll be the first to go."

"Excellent," Anna said, leaning back and looking from Kristoff to Elsa and back again. "See? Our match is already doing great things for the kingdom, and we haven't even gotten formally engaged yet."

Kristoff rolled his eyes. "Whatever you say, feistypants."

But Elsa laughed again. And in Anna's mind, that made everything worth it.

* * *

><p><strong>And now the plot is thickening.<strong>

**Thank you to Jacob Flores, homers8736, CrunchDeNumbers, RJCA27, fericita, TheHumanCanvas, MagicOfDisney, Batman1809, NrDg, Guest, WinterKnight2104, and LinesoftheLost112 for your lovely comments! :D Feedback like this is what keeps me going!**

**To answer your question, Guest: a Greve is a rank of nobility. It's roughly equivalent to a count. When I was writing this, I thought I had found sources saying it was more-or-less equal to a baron … but now I can't find them again.**

**I find myself getting very confused by these noble rankings (I'm most familiar with the British system), so this is the point where I throw up my hands and say, "I give up!" A Jarl is more-or-less equal to an earl, a Greve (in Arendelle) is more-or-less-equal to a baron, and the reasoning is Because I Said So.**

**Anyway, thanks for reading, everyone! Chapter 4 is a long one. But the good news is that you only have to wait until I finish Chapter 9 (which shouldn't be as long) to read it! Yay!**

**Until next time!**


	4. Many Meetings, Part 1

**Chapter 4: Many Meetings, Part 1**

It surprised Elsa not one bit that Chancellor Tennfjord took the first slot that Elsa had left open for meetings with her councilors. As Chancellor, it was practically her right. As Master Moller's former superior, it was practically inevitable.

All the same, knowing that it was inevitable did not actually make it easier for Elsa to start the conversation. She did her best to stall with a polite greeting and an offer of refreshment, the first of which Chancellor Tennfjord returned and the second she refused. So now Elsa was trying to keep a serene smile in place while Chancellor Tennfjord was only the width of a desk away, wondering what on earth to say next.

Chancellor Tennfjord was watching her, her brows knit and faintly frowning. "Your Majesty … I am trying to think of how best to put this … are you quite sure that this is a course of action you wish to commit to?"

Elsa tilted her head. "I beg your pardon, Chancellor?"

"You've shown your hand quite plainly," she replied. "Threatening to dismiss any Councilor who disagreed …"

Elsa barely held back a wince. "That isn't … quite my intention. I only—it's a last resort, you see."

"Meaning you would only dismiss enough Councilors to get your desired vote?" Chancellor Tennfjord asked.

Elsa nodded.

"I see." The Chancellor was nodding to herself, her fingernails faintly tapping against the desk. "Still, Your Majesty – what you're doing is politically risky."

Elsa swallowed. "I know."

"You've worked very hard to not … overstep your authority, let us say. You work for consensus, you take advice, and it is very rare that you exercise your veto power or overtly push a particular policy. Yet here—Your Majesty, you have left your Council with very little choice other than to approve this match. Of course, we could test you … but if enough of us did it, it might cause a crisis, especially if you followed through on your threat to dismiss us all."

"Not all," Elsa replied. She forced something like a smile. "Madam Voll, Lady Sylvi, Treasurer Akselsen, and Bishop Elias are safe enough."

Chancellor Tennfjord chuckled. "True. All the same … Your Majesty, this could cause a scandal."

Elsa swallowed and tilted her chin up. "Let it."

"There will be plenty who question whether Princess Anna's marriage to a man of no known antecedents, whose current position seems to be entirely owing to their relationship, is a good thing for the realm. And," she rolled her eyes, "I guarantee that _everyone_ will be watching the Princess's waistline until the wedding, and everyone will be counting the months between the wedding and the birth of her first child."

For a moment Elsa was confused – and then comprehension dawned. "Oh Frigg!" she gasped.

"That isn't …?" Chancellor Tennfjord let the sentence dangle.

"No! No, of course—" Elsa hesitated, was it really _of course_? Elsa worked very hard to be able to claim ignorance of some things. But all the same … she'd turn Kristoff into an icicle if he tried. She was pretty sure he knew that.

_Yes, but is that really the sort of reasoning that will work on _Anna_?_

Elsa coughed, forcing her mind back onto the proper track. "That is to say—certainly not. They're—they're getting married now because … because they love each other."

And if there was any justice in the world, that would be all that it was necessary to say.

But there wasn't. Chancellor Tennfjord leaned closer. "Are you sure that's enough, Your Majesty? Are you willing to bring that reason to the people when they ask why Princess Anna was not married off to create an alliance?"

"Yes," Elsa replied.

"Do you expect it to be convincing?" she pressed.

Elsa thought about that. "There—I have not found a single compelling reason why the realm is in such dire straits that Anna's happiness must be sacrificed for it. She's already sacrificed more than enough of her happiness – her _childhood_ – for the good of … well, not the realm, not exactly, but it was still sacrificed. And she …"

Elsa had to close her eyes, had to take deep breaths, because even so many months later, when she thought of this the ice still rose up inside her and the wailing fear threatened to drown out every other thought. "She _died_. She could have saved herself. She chose to save me instead, save this whole kingdom from rule by King Hans."

When she opened her eyes, it did not surprise her that there was a faint sheen of ice on the desk beneath her hands. Elsa took a deep breath and remembered that wonderful feeling of hugging Anna for the first time in thirteen years to dispel it. It took a moment. But the ice disappeared.

"And after all of that—the least Anna deserves is to be happy and marry the man she loves. I don't care what I have to do to make it happen, Chancellor. I will dismiss every member of my Council if I must. I will find a way to change the law. I don't—I don't care."

Chancellor Tennfjord did not answer at first. Her steel-gray eyes bored into Elsa's. Elsa tilted her chin and forced herself to meet that gaze second for second.

"The nobility will not be happy," Chancellor Tennfjord warned. "The parts of the commons that align themselves closely with the nobility will not be happy. The rest of the commons … well, they'll probably be happy."

"Anna is the people's princess," Elsa murmured, smiling faintly.

"And Lord Ismester is, or was, one of their own," Chancellor Tennfjord nodded. "Yes, they'll be happy. However, you are aware that there can be no chance of Lord Ismester becoming King?" She narrowed her eyes, fixing Elsa with a stare. "The idea of him someday – gods forbid – becoming Prince Consort will be hard enough for some people to stomach. He can't become King."

Since _Kristoff_ was one of the people who would have a hard time stomaching the idea of Prince Consort Kristoff, Elsa did not argue the point. "It can be put into the marriage articles that Kristoff will not become King, even if Anna becomes Queen. I don't think he'll argue."

Chancellor Tennfjord smiled a small, crooked smile. "He might even thank you."

"He probably will," Elsa agreed.

"And, Your Majesty – you might have to earn back some goodwill. You will certainly find that your own … choices for a match might become rather curtailed. To be quite blunt, Your Majesty, you will not be able to marry an ice harvester. Or any man not from the upper echelons of society."

Elsa shrugged. "I doubt I should have been allowed to marry an ice harvester in any case."

"True. But you are aware that there will be even greater pressure on you to marry, and marry soon?" Again Chancellor Tennfjord's eyes were boring into hers. "There will be very few who actively want the child of an ice harvester to sit on Arendelle's throne."

… _Marry?_

Elsa felt the ice inside clench and threaten to rise to the surface. She forced herself to take one deep breath, and then another. _Marry …_

The idea wasn't as impossible as it was a year ago. No. Not impossible at all. Not when all she had to do was close her eyes and feel the ghost of a hand on her waist, see a shy smile, or watch the sunlight as it flashed off a pair of spectacles.

_But …_

She shook her head. She would cross that bridge when she came to it. Increased pressure was nothing she couldn't handle.

"I do understand – and I … well, it's a price I'm willing to pay," Elsa replied.

"Very well," Chancellor Tennfjord nodded.

"So … can I count on your support, Chancellor? For Anna and Kristoff?"

And for the first time since she had come into the room, Chancellor Tennfjord smiled – truly smiled.

"You may."

* * *

><p>Master Moller was a good secretary, but there some places where his loyalty would be tested, and there were concerns that might supersede his duty to his employer. His desire to live a quiet life and not be henpecked to death by his parents, for example. So it was not at all surprising to Elsa that Councilor Moller had found his way into the second slot on Elsa's schedule that she had left open for private meetings.<p>

Unlike Chancellor Tennfjord, who had at least given Elsa the opportunity to speak first, he wasted no time. "Your Majesty, surely you understand what a mistake this marriage would be?"

"If I thought it was a mistake, I would have hardly given my blessing, would I have?" Elsa asked, eyebrow raised.

Councilor Moller blinked. "Well … perhaps if you did not want to say no yourself—"

"No," Elsa interrupted.

"No?"

"No."

"Oh." He slumped somewhat in his seat, then brought a fine linen handkerchief from his pocket and mopped his brow with it.

Elsa forbore from raising her eyebrow again, even though she did not usually have that effect on people. Then again, Councilor Moller was a bit different.

"But Your Majesty – an _ice harvester_? I understand the last prince Princess Anna brought around was … well, I suppose he was hardly ideal … but it's not like her charm has worn off, you know. Not in the least! Why, my own son – Brynjar, that is not Bertie – er – that is to say, _Captain_ Moller, not _Master_ Moller – well, I shan't deny that he's said some very complimentary things about her …"

He left the sentence dangling, as if to invite a confidence from Elsa, a hurried admission that Anna had said some complimentary things, too. Unfortunately he was doomed to disappointment, because he had not annoyed Elsa so much that she would repeat some of the things that Anna had actually said about Captain Moller.

"How lovely," was all Elsa would allow herself to say.

"Er—yes—well—there's also the Emperor of Friezenburg, you know?" Councilor Moller went on.

The hackles on the back of Elsa's neck began to rise.

"I know he's married, of course – but he has got two younger brothers – and you know, I think the younger one is just Princess Anna's age – he's attending university at the moment, I believe, but _that_ would hardly be an impediment – in any case even a betrothal would come in quite handy, given everything, don't you think?" He blinked a couple of times, again inviting a confidence.

This time Elsa decided to be blunt. "For Friezenburg, perhaps. I'm not sure how such an arrangement would benefit Arendelle."

"Well—they're the Empire of Friezenburg! When was the last time a Princess of Arendelle set her sights so high?"

In a way he almost had a point. Friezenburg was a great power. Arendelle was not. However, Friezenburg also had to worry about its next-door neighbor trying for a land grab in the near future. At the moment, Arendelle had no such troubles. To create an alliance with Friezenburg now was an excellent way to invite such troubles, or at the very least make Friezenburg's troubles become Arendelle's troubles, which was something Elsa was trying to avoid.

And all of that was not even getting into the matter that Anna's heart was already taken.

"Or if you're not interested in Friezenburg … there are plenty of other young princes – dukes – etc. out there," Councilor Moller went on. "I'm sure someone suitable could be found."

"I am sure there is no shortage of suitable candidates," Elsa conceded. "However, the fact is that my sister is in love with Lord Ismester. He is in love with her. And they will be _very_ happy together." Elsa raised both of her eyebrows, looking down her nose at Councilor Moller. "I intend to see to it. And I will be … _most pleased_ with anyone who is willing to help."

For a moment Councilor Moller's eyes lit up. For a moment he opened his mouth. And then he shut it again.

He straightened his waistcoat and tilted his chin up. "Your Majesty, I cannot be party to this. It is a mistake."

"I was quite serious when I said that I would be willing to dismiss councilors if that meant my sister would get to marry the man she loves," Elsa replied. "You are aware of that?"

"_That_ would also be a mistake, and it would cause no end of uproar in the kingdom. I should hope you would reconsider."

Unfortunately he was not entirely wrong. Councilor Moller had gotten his post by virtue of the fact that his wife's cousin was the governor of Grums – a governor who had managed to retain his position even after Elsa's father had pushed through the reform that led to governors being elected by the popular vote. If she were to dismiss Councilor Moller, Governor Frisk would not be pleased, and that could make things … difficult.

But she would cross that bridge when she came to it.

"Perhaps. But the kingdom has weathered uproar before, and it shall again." Elsa tapped her fingers on the desk, wondering if there were any other arguments she could marshal to her side. None came – mostly because she realized that there was simply no reasoning with some people. "Councilor Moller, is there anything else you wish to say about this match – other than that it is a mistake? You've made that point quite clear."

"Only that I hope you will reconsider, Your Majesty," he replied, bowing his head.

"And I hope you will reconsider." Elsa smiled, small and tight. "We shall see which of us bends first. But if you have nothing more to say … then it would not be right for me to trespass on any more of your time."

"Oh. Um. Er. All right, then."

It took Councilor Moller a minute to realize that was a dismissal. When he did, he got up in a hurry, bowed, and scurried out of the room.

As soon as the door was shut behind him, Elsa sighed and shook her head. _Hopefully whoever comes next will be easier than this._

* * *

><p>As luck would have it, Bishop Elias was next on the list. When he came in, Elsa offered him a chocolate, which he gladly accepted. In the past year Elsa had learned that his addiction to the stuff was almost as bad as hers and Anna's.<p>

They ate in silence, giving the chocolate its due. Then Elsa reluctantly put the box back in its drawer. She looked up at the Bishop with a faint smile. "Well. Duty does call."

"Indeed." He sighed, a faint frown creasing across his long face. "You know, Your Majesty, I'm not sure why you asked me to meet as well as everyone else. I mean, of course you should wish to speak to those opposed to the match and those undecided, but why those of us who are in favor? Fairness?"

"Not just that. To be honest …" Elsa took a deep breath and forced a smile. "Well, I should—if you do not mind—like to hear _why_ you're in favor, so I might take your best arguments and shamelessly pilfer them as I attempt to convince your colleagues."

Bishop Elias chuckled. "An ulterior motive! I ought to have guessed."

"Indeed," Elsa replied. "That, and Bishop, we barely heard from you at all the other day – I must admit, I am curious about what led you to the conclusions you made."

The laughter was gone.

"Ah," the Bishop replied. Elsa began to reach for the chocolate again to lighten the mood.

He sat back in his chair, frowning. "Your Majesty … what I am about to say might not be very comfortable for you to hear. I'd like to apologize for it in advance."

Elsa forced a shrug. "Since I doubt you'll be questioning my sanity or implying that I am a poor ruler for wanting my sister to be happy, I don't think any apologies are necessary."

"You might wish I was," he replied. "You see, I would think it a grave mistake for either you or Princess Anna to marry for any reason other than the deepest love …"

Elsa blinked; that was not what she had been expecting to hear at all.

"And I very much fear," he sighed, "that the reasons for that thought have everything to do with your magic."

"… Ah," Elsa murmured. Her hands, which she had folded on the desk, seemed to fall to her lap of their own accord.

"It's not just because love is the key to controlling your powers," he went on. "From a truly – you must excuse for what I am about to say – from a wholly if rather mercenarily pragmatic perspective, surrounding you with as many loving relationships as possible is only sensible. But that's really not all it is."

Bishop Elias frowned faintly. "It's a very nebulous idea I'm going to describe – but describe it I must. True love is stronger than magic. _Everyone_ – no, let me rephrase. Virtually every source that has described the workings of magic agrees on that, whether we're looking at the history of Queen Snow White of Corona, Queen Aurora of Francelle, even Queen Merida of DunBroch – somehow or other, the magic in their lives was always reversed by the power of love.

"Yet," the Bishop chewed his lower lip, "there are … other stories … stories where magic was enhanced, made even more powerful by love – where magic and love working together accomplished what neither could accomplish alone. They are only whispers, rumors, but …"

The Bishop kept talking, but Elsa wasn't listening. She was thinking.

_Rapunzel. And Eugene._

The number of people who knew the truth about what had happened to her cousin when Eugene freed her from that witch Gothel was small. Tiny, even, maybe more than could be counted on one hand, but not so many that one would need more than two. But Elsa was one of them, because her cousin was a kind-hearted soul who somehow managed to see the best in people even after all she had gone through.

Because Rapunzel was one of the few people who had watched the person she loved most in the world die, only to come back to life again.

So after the Great Thaw, Rapunzel had sought Elsa out and talked to her about it. About what she had seen, and how she had felt, and how it was simultaneously the most wonderful and the most horrible thing that had ever happened to her. And Elsa remembered how she had described it.

"_So after Eugene … died, I just—I started crying, and I started singing the song again, my song. I didn't know what else to do. And I don't really have any idea how what happened, happened. But I cried, and one of my tears fell on Eugene's face, and then … I felt it before it happened. It was the same feeling I would get when my hair would heal people, only it was fainter, like it was coming from a greater distance. Then … light. Light started coming out of his wound, in long trails, like – like have you ever held a candle and moved your arm really fast, so it looks like you're making a shape with the flame? It was like that, only the light was there the whole time. The light formed a flower shape right over Eugene's wound, and then …"_

Elsa would never forget the way her cousin had smiled, the way her brilliant green eyes had grown glassy with tears.

"_Eugene came back to me."_

_Magic,_ Elsa thought, _magic, and love. Magic—magic can't bring back the dead—and love certainly can't, otherwise barely anyone would die—but when you combine the two …_

She had to swallow and clutch her hands in her lap to keep them from shaking. "So—pardon me, Bishop—you think that combining the power of magic with that love will … make us more powerful?"

The Bishop had not been speaking—Elsa had no idea when he had fallen silent, but perhaps he had done so when he realized that he was not being listened to. All the same, he did not answer right away. "Not … exactly. Certainly not in the way the world sees power. But …" He leaned back, tapping his fingers together, clearly deep in thought. "Your Majesty, I will be brutally honest. Too often when we hear of magic, we hear of the destruction it causes, of it being used for evil purposes. If—if things had ended differently after your coronation, yours might have been another of those stories, regardless of what you meant or didn't mean to do. It seems to me … that by making sure you and your sister have strong love on your side, we might begin to change that narrative."

_But why?_ Elsa wondered. _Why does it matter? It would make life easier for me, assuming such a thing could even happen in my lifetime, but—_

_Elsa. Stop. Don't be a fool._

Bishop Elias was an educated man, perhaps the only member of her Council who had even attempted to understand her power, rather than fearing it, seeking to use it, or trying to ignore it. He valued truth and knowledge for their own sakes. For him, turning that narrative around was a worthy goal in itself.

And perhaps … perhaps, even if he did not want to admit it, perhaps there was a thread of wanting to make sure Elsa's own power was hemmed in and controlled by love. She couldn't blame him. She knew too well what happened when she let fear overwhelm her love and her entire sense of who she was.

"I … see," Elsa replied, nodding slowly. "So you think that … surrounding magic with love would keep us safe?"

"Yes, I do believe so. Especially since …" Here the Bishop looked stricken. "There is … perhaps … a possibility of the magic being hereditary."

Elsa froze. "Her—hereditary? But—but that's impossible. Isn't it? Wouldn't we _know_ if—I've never heard of families of magicians!"

"That may very well be because in many of the stories we tell about magicians, they are evil, harmful people," Bishop Elias said very gently. "In many cases, it would not surprise me at all that they did not have children. In other cases – if the truth about them was twisted – they might have hidden their families away, or their families may have disavowed all connection with them for their own safety. At this time and distance, it's impossible to tell."

"I … see … but you think if there's a chance that – that my child—"

"Or Princess Anna's," he interrupted. "Slantwise inheritance is certainly not impossible."

Elsa nodded. "Yes. Better that child be—be brought up knowing that love … love is more powerful than just about anything."

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "Bishop, I—I must thank you for sharing this with me. It has been most … instructive. But …"

She opened her eyes. "I must ask you for a favor."

"I certainly shan't speak of this to anyone without your express permission," the Bishop replied, nodding.

"But that is not what I want you to do. I would—Bishop, if you would not mind, and if your colleagues ask – please, do not be shy about sharing some of your theories. Particularly regarding heredity, and the importance of love conquering magic."

Bishop Elias's eyes went well and his jaw fell slightly. "But Your Majesty! The last thing we want to do is encourage more misplaced fear!"

_Is it so very misplaced?_ Elsa wondered. "But it could work," she replied. "The other councilors – well, you saw how they were thinking. If that is how their minds are going to operate, I think your argument is one of the few that stands a chance of convincing them."

She had to take a deep breath and remember that _love will _thaw before saying her next piece. "And frankly, if your theories are correct, then ensuring that Anna marries for love is even more important than I thought it was, and that is saying something. So – will you do this for me? Please?"

Bishop Elias watched her for a long moment. But finally he nodded. "If that is your wish … then, Your Majesty, you can count on me."

* * *

><p>"Your Majesty …"<p>

Elsa found herself watching the worried green eyes of Councilor Hagebak and trying to smile. Amazing – he was probably the only one of her councilors who was more nervous about this meeting than she was. Unfortunately, she could take scant comfort in that fact.

"Are …" He tilted his head back, sighing. "Your Majesty, I'll be honest. I don't think allowing your sister to marry an Arendellian – and a commoner at that – is a wise idea."

"Lord Ismester is not a commoner anymore," Elsa replied, "though why not an Arendellian?"

Councilor Hagebak frowned, probably determining which statement to reply to first. "Not an Arendellian because – well – with war coming on the continent …"

_There is always a war coming on the continent,_ Elsa thought, but let her eyebrows rise in a mute invitation to say on.

"I've been speaking with Minister Falk," he went on, "and I don't believe – and he doesn't believe either – that this is a simple border dispute. This war could drag in several countries and last for years."

"Minister Falk has revealed his concerns to me," Elsa answered, "and to be honest, I share them. However, I must admit that this analysis makes me even _less_ inclined to force Anna to leave her home in order to marry some foreign prince."

Councilor Hagebak could have easily pointed out that being forced to leave one's home, possibly forever, to be wed to a foreign prince was one of the traditional duties of a princess. He did not. "I understand your concern, Your Majesty, and given that she is your heiress, I would agree that we should find some way that she would not have to leave home. But that being said – a foreign alliance could help us greatly now."

"Why?" asked Elsa. "Marrying into either Corinthia or Friezenburg is more likely to draw us into this war, which I should like to keep us out of, if at all possible. Marrying into a state allied with either could have the same effect – is practically designed to have the same effect. Even marrying into a neutral state doesn't keep us safe."

_And, _Elsa thought, _if it's alliances we need, who says they have to be sealed with a marriage? Of course marital alliances are important, but for heaven's sake, there are other ways to do it. Mutual self-interest, for one._

It wasn't as if Elsa didn't know how the game was played. Often royal children would be shuffled around in betrothals continually until the time came for them to actually wed. But that practice was starting to fade in these modern days, and with the governments of many countries turning increasingly republican – where it made no sense to marry your son off to the daughter of the Prime Minister of another country, because in next year's elections he might no longer have his post – it might even be gone before another century had passed.

Seen in that light, allowing Anna to marry where her heart led her was merely getting ahead of a trend.

But Councilor Hagebak didn't see it that way. "Er—well, not necessarily, Your Majesty. See, if you were to have Princess Anna marry into …" He groped for a country, "Corona, let's say! They've got a few spare dukes lying about, I believe – well, if war is to come, Corona would almost certainly side with Corinthia. If we were tied to them by marriage, then perhaps we could still stay out, simply by forming an agreement to come to Corona's defense if Corona were to call on us – but keeping our troops in reserve until that time.

"And … by our troops, I mean …" He looked at Elsa's hands. "Well."

Elsa also looked at her hands. "I … see."

Her heart was starting to pound, and she had to swallow a couple of times to regain her composure. _Love. Love will thaw._ It didn't do anything to slow her heart rate down, but the ice that was starting to wake up was soothed, settled, and went to sleep again.

"Councilor Hagebak, I—I thank you for saying that, truly. Because it seems to me to be an excellent plan. But we already have close relations with Corona, _personal_ relations I might add, and we could come up with a military alliance without needing to recourse to a marriage."

Whatever King Leopold might think of using Elsa's powers in the field of battle … Rapunzel knew what it was like to be used only for a power she had not asked for and had not chosen. Rapunzel would be on her side.

Councilor Hagebak blinked. "Well, I only meant to use Corona as an example, but—yes, that does make sense." He took a deep breath and pushed both of his hands through his hair. "I'm sorry. I should have thought of that. However … Your Majesty, don't you think Princess Anna can do … well, better?"

Elsa stiffened.

"I mean—I have nothing against Lord Ismester, personally. I'm sure he's a fine young man. But he comes from a _very_ different world from us," Councilor Hagebak pressed. "A very different world."

Elsa thought of Anna's childhood – lonely, isolated, and really not part of the "world" that Councilor Hagebak was referring to at all. Was the difference between Anna's world and Kristoff's really that extreme?

"And it will be difficult. For both of them, personally. It's been a year and a half, and—anyone can see that Lord Ismester is still not fully comfortable in this station in life."

_I'm not fully comfortable in this station in life, and I was born to it._

"That is not even beginning to think about the difficulty that they will both have, and that _you_ will have, once the nobles learn of this—"

"Councilor," Elsa interrupted, "have you ever been in love? So in love that you would brave any danger to save the person you care for? So in love—so in love that you would give them up, if that is what it took to keep them happy and safe?"

Councilor Hagebak blinked. Then he sighed. "Yes."

Elsa's eyebrows rose.

"Frankly, yes—I was. To a woman—who—well, let's say our relationship was not entirely unlike Lord Ismester's and Princess Anna's – er, with the roles reversed. And I …"

He looked out the window, his eyes tracing the snowflakes gently falling. "I—I did not mean to get so personal – but if you must know … my father was responsible for separating us. He did the right thing. Never mind what marrying her would have done to my career. If I had married her, it would have been terrible for her. She would have never been accepted at this station in life. Never. Others would have … well, they would have made her life awful, and I'm being polite about it."

Councilor Hagebak stared at Elsa, eyes narrowed, speaking slowly. "Your Majesty, you can force the Council to accept this marriage, but you cannot force the kingdom. I don't mean that people would rebel," he added, forestalling Elsa's protest, "in fact, I'm sure that—well—many of the people of Lord Ismester's former station will be quite happy about it. And Princess Anna earned much goodwill with the common people. I mean—I mean the people whom Lord Ismester and Princess Anna must deal with every day. The nobles, the wealthy. There are more ways to show that one does not accept a marriage than by rioting in the streets. And some of those ways can hurt, very deeply."

Elsa forced herself to take one deep breath, then two. The thought of Anna and Kristoff being cut off, ostracized …

_No. No, that won't happen._

"Princess Anna has many friends," Elsa replied.

"They might not be her friend after she's married."

"I disagree." Elsa tilted up her chin, stared Councilor Hagebak down. "If they refuse to associate with her for marrying a good man whom she loves very dearly, then they were never her friends in the first place. Princess Anna and Kr—Lord Ismester _will_ do this, and they will be accepted. If for no other reason than," Elsa took a deep breath, "I have to work with my nobles politically – but there is _nothing_, nothing that says that I have to tolerate people socially who treat my beloved sister and her chosen husband with anything other than the respect and courtesy they deserve."

Councilor Hagebak sighed. "For their sake, I hope you're correct. But I can't be party to this mistake. I never … I never thanked my father for pulling me back. Preventing someone else from making the same mistake I nearly made is the closest I can come to doing it today."

"Even if it costs you your post?"

"Even that, Your Majesty."

"Very well. Then I thank you for your honesty and your integrity, Councilor. And I hope the rest of your day is more pleasant than this interview."

Blinking – perhaps he had expected to be handed his walking papers then and there – Councilor Hagebak bowed and politely took his leave.

As soon as he was gone, Elsa sighed and rubbed her temple. _I hope – I truly hope – that it doesn't come to having to fire councilors. Because I'm not sure I can afford to lose an honest man._

* * *

><p>When Treasurer Akselsen came in next, he was panting and out of breath. Elsa poured him a glass of water, held onto it for long enough to make it cold, and held it out to him without a word.<p>

"Thank you," Treasurer Akselsen gasped out before taking a long drink. He finally seated himself, and the two of them faced each other in silence while he caught his breath.

For the second time Elsa had a councilor mopping his brow with a handkerchief, although in this case she at least had a reasonable explanation that had nothing to do with her. "Sorry about that," the Treasurer said with a faint, apologetic chuckle. "Lost track of time. A dropped decimal point—well, you don't want to know, Your Majesty."

Given that Elsa had seen the difficulties that a misplaced decimal could cause in her own back-of-the-envelope calculations, she decided to take him at his word. "As long as everything is sorted out in the end," she replied. "However, before we say anything else, I really must thank you."

Treasurer Akselsen had been taking another sip of his water, but he paused, his eyebrows rising.

"For, er, already giving your vote in support of Princess Anna's marriage," Elsa answered, hoping against hope that he hadn't changed his mind. For the supporter whose brain she was most eager to pick to change his mind was not something she wanted to contemplate, for all that she was afraid she might have to.

Treasurer Akselsen's eyes went wide, then he nodded, still drinking. Finally he put the glass down. "Your Majesty, you need not thank me. I'm only advising you in the way that I believe is best for the kingdom."

Elsa tried not to wince. True, she didn't think Anna and Kristoff's marriage would be _bad_ for the kingdom, it might even be _good_ for the kingdom … but _best_ for the kingdom …

"After Master—er, that is, Lord Ismester has already done quite good work with the ice harvesters, and it's to be hoped that as Princess Anna's husband and your brother-in-law, he'll continue to do good work." He cleared his throat. "But you already know my thoughts about the international ice trade."

Elsa nodded. Harvesting ice was something that had been done in Arendelle for generations, but turning it into an international trade was something that had only happened in her father's time. Of course the Americans had beaten them to it, but it had been her father's hope that Arendelle, being closer to the population centers of Europa, might be able to undercut the Americans' prices and earn a lucrative national trade for themselves.

Whether her father would have achieved that vision with natural means was anyone's guess. What was not in dispute was that Elsa being on the throne helped matters considerably.

"Look at what he did with the ships alone—er—of course, Your Majesty, _you_ did the work there, the true work, but …"

"Treasurer," Elsa said, raising up her hand. "I assure you, what I did with the ships was not that difficult."

_Kristoff asking me about it was probably more difficult._ She remembered how he had stood at her desk, hat in hand, leaning on his crutch. He wasn't anywhere near ready to return to the ice, but Kristoff always had to be doing something, so she'd asked Treasurer Akselsen if he wouldn't mind talking to Kristoff about his thoughts about the ice trade. After all, the title Arendelle Ice Master and Deliverer ought to mean something.

It had ended up meaning more than Elsa had bargained for.

"_So, um, Els—I mean, Your Majesty, the Treasurer and I were thinking …" Kristoff kept turning his hat in his hands, probably to give them something to do. Elsa understood the feeling. It was why her own hands were hidden under the desk._

_She'd asked him to sit down twice and he hadn't. So now she was watching his leg closely, figuring she'd turn it into an order if he seemed about to fall. Anna would not be pleased if Kristoff got hurt on Elsa's watch._

"_It's just," Kristoff went on, oblivious to her thoughts, "we all know that the ice trade is—people are making a killing off it, is what I'm saying."_

_Elsa nodded._

"_But—the problem with shipping it any distance, especially to hot places where they need the ice is, well, ice melts. But …" He took a deep breath. "You can—well, you're the Snow Queen."_

_Her brows knit together. "Are you suggesting that I …" She hesitated, not knowing what he was suggesting._

"_Make—make some ships cold?" Kristoff asked. "Well, not the whole ship. Just the hold, where they would have put the ice anyway. I mean, I understand if you don't want to do it, I know it would be hard, but I figured there was no harm in—"_

"_Wait, Kristoff." He'd spent far too much time with Anna; now he was starting to sound like her. Elsa bit back a smile. "You want me to enchant some ships to be cold – is that what you're asking? So they can better transport ice?"_

_He nodded, half-eager, half-shamefaced._

_Elsa leaned back in her chair. "I … I never thought of that before …" She tapped her fingers against the surface of her desk. "I don't know how far the magic will last. I mean—once it gets away from me."_

"_Even a little bit helps, Elsa," Kristoff replied, and she could see that he meant it._

_There would be details, Elsa knew. Pesky, annoying little details that would crop up when they were least expected and make things difficult in wholly unappreciated ways. But …_

_Details aside, she couldn't think of a single good reason why not. She'd wanted to use her powers to help Arendelle, hadn't she?_

"_All right," Elsa replied. "You and Treasurer Akselsen come up with a plan – once I've approved it, I'll … enchant the ship of your choosing."_

"_Wait—what? Really?" Kristoff's eyes widened. "That—that's it? You'll do it?"_

"_Would you rather I not?" she asked, eyebrows going up._

"_No, no, no! This—this is great! Thank you, Elsa!" And barely waiting to be dismissed, he'd hobbled off, no doubt to tell Treasurer Akselsen the good news._

_That had only been the beginning._

"If—if you say so," Treasure Akselsen replied, shifting slightly and gulping. Elsa didn't blame him for being uncomfortable at the thought of Elsa only having to wave her hand and make a ship cold for nearly nine months and a journey all the way to the southern tip of Corinthia. If she thought about it too closely, she grew uncomfortable too. "That—that being said, with the ships, and the harvesters' guild …"

Elsa nodded. "You are sure that is a good idea?" she asked. She had her own thoughts on the matter of the ice harvesters organizing – and what that might mean for the rest of the economy – but what was the point of having experts on her Council if she did not ask them for advice?

"In the case of the ice harvesters, yes," Treasurer Akselsen replied. "Some people might say that all collectivism in the laboring classes is to be squashed, but frankly, the laboring classes make up the largest mass of people, and it's in everyone's interest if doing a long and hard day's work provides them with enough to adequately feed, clothe, and shelter their families."

_If only,_ Elsa thought, _because people who are fed, clothed, sheltered, and utterly exhausted from a long day's work are that much less likely to rebel._

"Besides, let's not forget that the ice harvesters have always been independent men, so there are no employers with deep pockets to offend."

"The owners of the ice houses were hardly happy," Elsa replied, referring to the men who owned the domed, sunken buildings where ice could be stored on even the hottest summer days. They tended to buy ice in bulk from the harvesters, and of course a guild of ice harvesters demanding higher prices was not something they would support. Their reaction had been to attempt to boycott guild harvesters, trying to break the ice harvesters' will in the summer, when they depended on the owners of the ice houses to sell and distribute their ice domestically.

That hadn't worked, so far, and the ice harvesters had Kristoff to thank for it. Perhaps he had cheated, getting the treasury to lease one of the late Roahl Ramussen's warehouses to the guild to use to store ice. Perhaps the thumb Elsa had put on the scales by creating an enchantment to keep the drafty warehouse chilled had not been, strictly speaking, fair play. And some might say that Kristoff driving wagons around and selling some of the other harvesters' ice himself was entirely unwarranted.

But it had worked. The ice harvesters had stuck together and weathered the crisis. And once individual ice house owners had started to come around and agree to negotiate in good faith with the guild regarding the prices of ice, Elsa had enchanted their ice houses as well. She'd even enchanted the ice wagons of the men who had come around most quickly.

So nobody really lost. The ice harvesters had prices that were fairer. The ice house owners were still getting their cut of the lucrative trade, albeit a slightly smaller one. But with luck it wouldn't matter, because if they were able to expand their trade the way Treasurer Akselsen thought they would be able to, everyone would be making more money in the long run anyway.

"_Your Majesty," he had said this past summer when the crisis had first started and Elsa had been unsure whether and how to step in, "when it comes to resolving economic disputes, I find that it's never useful to fight over how big everyone's share of the pie is. Everyone gets jealous and sooner or later we're all fighting over crumbs. What I find to be the best resolution is to simply make a bigger pie."_

So far, it seemed to be working.

Treasurer Akselsen had cleared his throat, and Elsa looked up. "That is true, Your Majesty, but Ma—Lord Ismester led the harvesters through that … upset. He had help, but he did it all the same. With—with time, practice, and full royal support, he could do great things for Arendelle's ice trade."

"I do believe that's the case," Elsa replied. "And …" She bit her lip. She knew Kristoff well enough to know that if he lost Anna—well, he'd have no reason to stay. The title, the position, the quarters in the palace, the generous stipend – those were not the perks. Those were the inconveniences he put up with to be closer to Anna.

Even if he stayed for the ice harvesters' sake, he certainly wouldn't be working as closely with the royal family. Perhaps they could still expand the ice trade. Perhaps he'd given them already a good enough foundation to grow on.

But it would be so, so much easier if Kristoff was still there to lead the charge.

"The trouble," Elsa mused, "is convincing your colleagues of the good that Lord Ismester could do, and how it can be enhanced if he is married to Princess Anna."

"Indeed," Treasurer Akselsen murmured. "Indeed."

"Have you any ideas?" she asked.

"Your Majesty, if my colleagues could be convinced by reason, logic, projections and reports, I should have already done so," he replied. "However …"

"I know," Elsa replied. "Still, if you think of anything …"

He nodded. "You will be the first to know."

* * *

><p>It had felt good to get back on the ice. Maybe not good in a purely physical sense – Kristoff's back was aching, his arms and shoulders were sore, and he was pretty sure he pulled something in his leg – but it felt good. Clean. Pure.<p>

Understandable.

And to make matters even better, he had a full sled full of ice to show for his efforts, marked with his brand, and now sitting in the warehouse-turned-icehouse until the ships for the southern climes started loading. It was an actual, real-life accomplishment, something that you could point to and say, "I did that." It wasn't politics and backbiting and wracking his brains to find a way to convince stubborn men (and women) that he was somehow good enough for Anna.

Unfortunately, it was also a rather sweaty and smelly accomplishment.

"Come on, boy," he said as he put Sven into his loose box, "let's get you cleaned up."

"_You should worry more about getting yourself cleaned up!"_ Sven answered. _"Anna can probably smell you from here!"_

"Ha ha, very funny. You did want carrots tonight, didn't you?"

"_Smell? Did I say something about a smell? I meant …"_ Sven looked from side to side, looking as confused and out of sorts as the reindeer ever did.

Kristoff chuckled as he took the combs and brushes and started to brush Sven out. He liked the stable hands and all, but they hadn't the least idea about how to groom Sven. They tried to groom him like a horse, and that wasn't how it worked, not in the least. But some of the stable hands still didn't see a difference.

"_You'd better hurry up, you don't want to be late for dinner with Anna," _Sven said as Kristoff took his time with Sven's hooves.

"It'll be fine," Kristoff said. "She's got her committee meetings with the Winter Festival people, remember? That always takes forever and a half."

He tried not to sigh. They were eating dinner together tonight, just the two of them, and it was supposed to be romantic. But the knots that Kristoff had chased away by heading out onto the ice were coming back, and he had no idea how he was going to pull off a romantic evening.

How was he supposed to act like one half of an engaged couple when he was terrified that the whole thing would be called off, and there was nothing he could do about it?

Sven didn't speak, just nudging Kristoff with his nose. Kristoff tried to smile, scratching Sven under the chin in the spot he liked best. "It'll be ok, buddy. Somehow."

"_You two will think of something,"_ Sven agreed. _"But right now you should probably focus on hurrying up if you don't want to be late."_

"Late? Then I hope we can make this brief," came a voice from outside the stall.

And Kristoff's eyes went wide, and he cringed, because he knew from experience that people thought him talking in Sven's voice was _really weird_ – and the last thing he wanted was for the Jarl of the Western March to think he was too crazy to marry Anna.

Of course, standing up so fast that he misjudged the angle, cracked his head against Sven's water trough and got knocked to the ground, swearing, wasn't the kind of thing to create a good impression, either.

Kristoff was still flat on his back, cursing his rotten luck (in his head this time, luckily), when the pair of boots shined with military precision came into view. It was followed by a hand. "You all right, Lord Ismester?"

Kristoff took the hand and allowed Jarl Casper to help him up. Standing, he dwarfed the military commander by a good four inches, but that did nothing to make him feel any better. "Yeah. I'm fine." Kristoff smiled and pretended to rap on the side of his head. "Thick skull."

Then, _Aww, SHIT_ as he realized what he had just said and how it would sound.

"Which can come in so handy for so many things," Jarl Casper replied, in a tone that Kristoff couldn't quite pin down as sarcastic or serious. "Do you have a few moments, Lord Ismester? The Queen has scheduled to meet with me this evening, but I was hoping to speak with you first."

"Um—" Kristoff started, but before he could even shoot a glance at a half-groomed Sven, the reindeer headbutted him forward.

_All righty then, we know where you stand, buddy._ "Yeah—I've got time," Kristoff replied.

"Excellent. Shall we walk? There's a portion of the training grounds that should be empty this time of the day."

Kristoff simply nodded and followed Jarl Casper out.

He assumed that the walking meant there would be no talking. Why else would they be going to a deserted place if not to make sure no one else could hear them? But that wasn't the case. "Have you ever heard of the story of Princess Ingrid and Greve Konrad?"

"You—you mean the daughter of King Haakon?" Kristoff asked, because there was only one Princess Ingrid he'd ever heard of, but there were probably dozens in Arendelle's history.

Jarl Casper nodded. "That would be the one."

"Um—well, yeah, I heard the story. Greve Konrad was her husband, right?"

Again Jarl Casper nodded.

"And—and the story I heard, they fell in love, but King Haakon said that anyone who wanted to marry her had to defeat all twelve of her big brothers at once. So Princess Ingrid made a salve that gave Greve Konrad the strength of ten men, so when he had to face off against her brothers, he was able to do it and win. And win her hand," Kristoff finished, unnecessarily. "I'm sure there's more to it, but that's the gist of what I heard. I—well, it's just a story, so I never paid that much attention."

"Oh, no, it's quite true," Jarl Casper replied. "Well—not in all the details, of course."

Kristoff nodded; of course that bit with the salve couldn't be true.

"From what I understand, it was actually a potion – ingestible – that Princess Ingrid made," Jarl Casper went on, "not a salve. And though King Haakon made Konrad face all the brothers in a single bout, he didn't send them in all at once. _That_ would be mad. From what I understand, they went in pairs."

"… Oh," Kristoff replied, still trying to wrap his head around the fact that the whole "strength of ten men" bit might have actually been true.

"Do you know why King Haakon did that?" asked Jarl Casper.

Here Kristoff felt that he was on firmer ground. "He didn't want Princess Ingrid to get married. Or at least not married to Greve Konrad."

"Oh, no," replied Jarl Casper.

_So much for firmer ground._

"He had no problem with her marrying – or marrying Greve Konrad, for that matter," Jarl Casper went on. "What he had was a keen understanding of how the succession works."

_Huh? The guy had twelve sons. Isn't that when you stop worrying about the succession?_

"The trouble was that King Haakon had twelve sons, and at that time, Arendelle was not large enough to support twelve princes. So King Haakon and his sons … let us say, they enlarged the territory. And while they were successful, that is the sort of thing that leads to a royal house making enemies. King Haakon feared that eventually one of those enemies would rise and attempt to slay them all. If that were to ever happen … Princess Ingrid would be the last hope of Arendelle's ruling house.

"Which meant," Jarl Casper continued as they passed into a small courtyard with a couple of training dummies, some benches, and a single, nondescript door leading back to the castle, "that Princess Ingrid – and any child she might be carrying, or already have – needed the best protection the land had to offer. Someone who was capable of defeating her twelve brothers, because any attacker who tried to get to her would have already done as much."

"Oh—boy," Kristoff muttered.

"Indeed. And as I'm sure you can see, we find ourselves in a similar position today with Princess Anna."

_Wait, WHAT?_

Kristoff stopped dead, staring at the back of Jarl Casper's head.

Jarl Casper turned around, eyebrows raised. "Surely you realize that Queen Elsa's … gift makes Arendelle a target?"

"I—I thought it would scare away people who think like … that," Kristoff finished stupidly.

"In terms of men who think only of wealth and power, certainly," Jarl Casper nodded. He had his hands clasped behind his back and was standing so straight that Kristoff found himself trying to remember those posture lessons Anna had insisted he sit (and stand, and bow) through with her to keep her company. "But those aren't the only men out there. There are some who will want to harm the Queen simply because of … who she is. And in that case …"

"Anna," Kristoff said, and gulped.

"Indeed."

"So …" Kristoff swallowed and rubbed the back of his head. "Is this the part where you tell me that you'll only support Anna and me if I mow down twelve guys single-handedly?"

"Not in the least, my lord. This is the nineteenth century. The sort of men you would be facing, if it – gods forbid – were to come to that, would not be trained warriors who fight with decency and honor. They would be assassins with a single task in mind and not too much worry about they accomplish it. So fighting twelve trained soldiers would not be much good. No, my lord," Jarl Casper said, turning and grabbing two sticks that had been leaning against the wall. Swords, actually—wooden swords. "What I want you to do is to hit me."

"Wait, wh—" Kristoff started.

He didn't finish. Jarl Casper threw one of the swords to Kristoff, and before Kristoff had properly caught it, Jarl Casper was on him with the other sword.

"Hey! What—" Another sentence Kristoff couldn't finish, as he tried to block Jarl Casper's sword with his sword and only succeeded in getting hit on the arm. "_MJOLNIR_!"

"It's a wooden practice sword, Lord Ismester. Trust me, this isn't anywhere near Mjolnir."

There were a dozen smart remarks begging to be made in reply to that, but Kristoff was too busy trying to keep himself from getting concussed to make them.

Gods, but Jarl Casper was fast! Kristoff had no idea where the next blow was coming from so could only do his best to block. And hit the old general? _Ha!_

The wooden blades cracked together in the cold still air, ringing like thunder through the courtyard. Kristoff had to wonder why no one else had heard them.

"You see," Jarl Casper began to speak, "the man whom Princess Anna marries," thrust, "has to be able," _crack_, "to defend her even when every other man," Kristoff had no idea what he did there; he could only duck out of the way before the blade came down on his head, "has fallen. He has to be," Kristoff had to grip his sword with both hands to keep it from flying out of his grip, "strong enough to buy the time necessary."

_Time,_ Kristoff thought, _time, I can do time._ He actually blocked a blow and managed to push back, just a little. "Time for," he had to duck again, "reinforcements?"

That was when Jarl Casper looked—sad? "Lord Ismester, if you're fighting to protect her," Kristoff yelped as the wooden blade made contact with his upper thigh, "there aren't any reinforcements left."

_Holy—_

But the thought never got farther than that, because Jarl Casper somehow doubled his attack, and all Kristoff could do was back away while trying to block. The blade moved through the air in front of him like a bird or a bee. "And if a man can't do that," Kristoff felt his back hit the wall, "then he's worse than useless for her!"

"Hey! I'm trying!" Kristoff shouted, then ducked again. Jarl Casper's blade hit the wall with a force that would have sent sparks flying if it were metal.

"Trying? You haven't come close to touching me!" Jarl Casper shouted back. "Show me what you can do, Ismester! Prove to me that you're willing to do what it takes to protect her!"

_Are. You. Kidding. Me?_

That was when Kristoff saw red. "What I'M willing to do?!"

He leapt forward with a roar, swinging his sword every which way so that Jarl Casper had to stumble back and try to block.

"What I'm willing to _do_ for her? I'd do _anything_! Ten minutes," _crack_, "ten bloody minutes after we met, you know what happened?" _Slam._ "Wolves! Godsdamn wolves show up and attack us! They chased off a cliff! _A cliff!_ And you know what I did then?"

He didn't wait for Jarl Casper to answer, but kept hacking and swinging, trying to hit, some, any part of him. "I put Anna on Sven and cut Sven loose—so he'd jump! So he'd make it, and _she'd_ make it, and even if I didn't make it, they'd be ok!" He slammed his sword into Jarl Casper's shoulder, making the older man yelp. "I'd known her for _ten minutes_!

"And now? _Now_?" He slammed his sword into Jarl Casper's hip, putting all the weight and all the muscle he'd built from years of hauling blocks of ice behind the blow. "What do you think I won't do for her now? I might not know how to fight, but you can bet your arse I'll fight for her!

"I'll fight," _smack_, "anyone," _crack_, "you," push, "send me!"

With that was one last blow and one last push that sent Jarl Casper sprawling into the snow.

He didn't pop right back up.

Kristoff dropped his sword. "Oh shit!" He ran forward. "Jarl Casper—I'm sorry—are you ok? I didn't mean to—"

Jarl Casper held up a hand. "I'm fine," he said. Was he panting? "I'm fine. You pack a wallop, Lord Ismester, if you don't mind me saying so."

"Heh," Kristoff swallowed.

"But," Jarl Casper made as if to sit up, and Kristoff rushed to help him, "you clearly have no idea what you're doing."

_No arguments there._

"And that won't do," Jarl Casper said, shaking his head. "No, that won't do at all."

Kristoff's heart dropped.

"After all," Jarl Casper made his shaky way to his feet, wiping snow off his coat, "if—_gods forbid_—something should happen, you need to have the best chance we can give you."

_Wait … what?_

"Um," Kristoff replied, most intelligently.

"Luckily there's a solution," Jarl Casper went on as if Kristoff hadn't spoken at all. "You've heard of Ahlstrom's, haven't you? The fencing school?"

Kristoff's jaw fell. "That's—that's the most expensive place in town …"

"Quite, and worth every øre, I should say," Jarl Casper replied. "Go there. Ahlstrom will teach you what you need to know. You'll find that the methods aren't … conventional, but they're quite effective."

Kristoff's brain was still sputtering over the world _Ahlstrom_. "But—but I can't!"

Jarl Casper blinked, his eyes growing hard, set. "You will if you want to marry the Princess. I _will_ insist that you know how to fight, or you shan't get my vote."

"But I …" Kristoff rubbed the back of his head. "How am I going to afford that?"

For some reason this made the Jarl blink again. "Eh? _Oh!_ Oh, never mind that. I've got it all fixed up with Ahlstrom."

"You're—I can't ask you to pay—wait, _what_? You planned this?"

"Of course," Jarl Casper replied, straightening the buttons on his jacket, "and as for paying, I won't be. The royal treasury of Arendelle will be, because if Akselsen can take out insurance policies against every eventuality, then so can I."

"Er," Kristoff replied.

"Any other questions?" asked Jarl Casper. "I fear I might be late for my appointment with the Queen."

"Um …" Kristoff shook his head. His life had been a whirlwind since he met Anna, and clearly it wasn't stopping any time soon. "When?"

"Show up Thursday eight o'clock, when they open," Jarl Casper replied. "Ahlstrom will meet you at the door."

Kristoff simply nodded.

"And by the way, Lord Ismester …" Jarl Casper came a little closer and stuck out his hand. "Congratulations on your upcoming nuptials. I am certain you and Princess Anna will be very happy together for a very long time to come, and I intend to do everything in my power to see that you are."

* * *

><p><strong>This sucker is over 10,000 words – almost 20% of the story that's been written thus far. And the next chapter is just as long(ish).<strong>

**Thank goodness it's already written.**

**Anyway! I want to thank all of the reviewers since last time: Van (hi Van!), Jacob Flores, fericita, csi cameron, grrlgeek72 (times 2!), CrunchDeNumbers, homers8736, Insectoid, MagicOfDisney, TheHumanCanvas, Red Star, Guest, another (?) Guest,** **winterinverona (hi Winter!), and Batman1809. Thank you SO much for your kind and encouraging words! You make me smile whenever I hear an e-mail notification!**

**Also, Guest: SOMEBODY NOTICED THE DRESS! You have no idea how happy that makes me. **

**Thanks for reading, everybody, and see you for Chapter 5!**


	5. Many Meetings, Part 2

**Chapter 5: Many Meetings, Part 2**

After the first half of Elsa's meetings with her councilors, the score (if one could call it that) stood at four in favor, two against. If one counted all of the advisors who had made their thoughts known at the initial meeting, it was six in favor, four against.

Elsa couldn't have more than three votes against.

But now, she thought, steeling herself for her next meeting, was not the time to worry. Councilor Omdahl was next.

Perhaps Elsa was laying it on a bit thick, having a steaming pot of tea (Count Silver) and neatly sliced lemons at the ready, both imported at no small expense. She had it on good authority that Count Silver was Councilor Omdahl's favorite. But at least she also had cover in that it was a relatively early morning meeting and Elsa herself liked that particular tea.

She had already poured and was sipping away when Master Moller announced the councilor. Perfect. Now she just had to avoid freezing it until Councilor Omdahl had a cup or two herself.

She didn't know why the older woman had that effect on her. Perhaps it was her bearing: poised, confident, with just a touch of knowingness that wasn't strictly polite but wasn't so overt as to be impolite, either. The confidence showed through in everything she did, from the fashionable gowns cut just this side of daring to the hair that was too brilliantly red to be wholly nature's gift and the sideways, smirking smile.

Lastly, there was the fact that Councilor Omdahl always got what she wanted, which was somewhat intimidating to someone who had only allowed herself to want things within the past two years.

Councilor Omdahl swept in, her bold cherry-colored dress making the rest of the room seem drab and faded. Elsa offered her a seat, which she took, and a cup of tea, which she also took, though not without a faint smile and a knowing look in her eye. Still, Elsa knew what a woman enjoying her tea looked like, and she was grateful for even this small victory.

However, after the tea had been sipped and perfunctory pleasantries exchanged, there was nothing to do but to get down to business. "So, Councilor," Elsa began, "you've had a few days to consider the proposal before the Council. What are your thoughts on Princess Anna's marriage?"

The Councilor leaned back, stirring her tea and looking thoughtful. "I think … the marriage is likely to cause scandal. And it severely curtails your own options," she replied.

"For instance," Councilor Omdahl brought her teacup to her lips, taking a slow and thoroughly appreciative sip, "you yourself will have to marry – and marry well – and it will have to be sooner rather than later."

Elsa took a deep breath. "That has already been pointed out to me. I …" She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "I understand that, and am willing to accept it."

She set her teacup down and put her hands on her lap.

"Are you now?" asked Councilor Omdahl, staring significantly at the space where Elsa's hands used to be. Under the cover of the desk, Elsa felt her hands began to wring together.

"You prefer the single life, don't you?" Councilor Omdahl asked. "I shouldn't blame you in you did. And I must say – having experienced both the married state and the single – _I_ prefer the single state."

If Anna was sitting there, she might have asked – privately, later, Elsa hoped – why, if that was the case, Councilor Omdahl had been married four times. But she wasn't, so Elsa had to content herself with hearing Anna's voice impishly asking it in the confines of her own head.

"Especially given your … condition," Councilor Omdahl continued.

Elsa found herself holding her breath, her hands balling into fists.

"After all, if you marry, it will almost certainly have to be to a foreign power." Almost absently, Councilor Omdahl began to stir her tea. Elsa kept her eyes on the spoon, watched the weak winter light flashing off it as it made its slow circuit round and round the teacup. "And when it comes to certain things – well, men are all alike. Like little boys, really. Show them a shiny new toy, and instantly they start bashing their friends on the head with it."

She looked up, and belatedly Elsa looked up as well to meet her gaze. "That's how they would see you, you know. As a shiny toy."

_Not all,_ Elsa thought to herself, _not all, not all._ There was one who wouldn't. Maybe he was fascinated by her powers, but he would never try to force her to use them as a weapon of war. He would never see Elsa as his ticket to continental power.

_Oh, Frigg, what am I getting myself into?_

Elsa gulped. "I am – I am quite aware of my … value, internationally speaking."

"And yet you're willing to put yourself on the open market?" Councilor Omdahl blinked. "Your Majesty, that is quite brave of you."

_Brave?_ No, that was the last thing she was. Not when her insides were quivering while sharp shards of ice poked her from within. Elsa was not brave, she was …

She hadn't the least idea what she was. But she at least was certain that brave people were not meant to feel this much fear.

_Fear will be your enemy, Elsa. Calm down._

It took a moment, a moment of relentless focus on the positive in her life, but eventually the spikes and shards of ice grew blunter, her insides stilled, and even her hands managed to relax.

"It is not a matter of bravery," Elsa forced herself to say. "While you say that I will have to marry well, the fact remains that I am a Queen Regnant and so have a certain degree of … control. I cannot be married off against my will, and I have no intentions of marrying a man who has any designs on using my powers for his or his country's gain – at least, not in a strictly military sense."

"And where do you intend to find such a man?" Councilor Omdahl asked.

"I am sure they are somewhere to be found. And—and in any case, there is nothing that says I _must_ marry into a foreign power. If—if worst comes to worst, there are surely men of good family in Arendelle who will make an … appropriate match, if other avenues have been explored and found wanting."

_Are there?_ Elsa wondered – but she wasn't going to think about that. No. Not when she still had an avenue left to explore. Whatever else she might have to fear from marriage, the idea of being used for her powers was not one of them. Not with Nick.

"Perhaps," was all Councilor Omdahl would reply. "But all the same, it's not what you want, is it? And I for one am not convinced that it would be what is good for Arendelle. To be quite blunt, Your Majesty, you have more than enough problems without having to worry about a husband's ambitions and constantly having to check them."

"… Perhaps," she admitted. "But I am hardly the first queen who has had to weather that particular storm. And even kings must deal with ambitious wives."

"True, true. But you could sidestep the whole thing," Councilor Omdahl went on, "if only Princess Anna were to marry sensibly."

Elsa blinked. "… _Sensibly_?"

"To a man who could be the father of the next King or Queen of Arendelle."

Now Elsa's hands clenched under the table. She forced herself to breathe, and breathe deeply, before answering. "There is nothing that is not sensible about Princess Anna marrying a man she loves."

"Your Majesty—"

"_No_. Whatever—whatever Lord Ismester's faults might be, at least ambition is not one of them. We have _seen_ what happens when overly ambitious men try to get their—their hooks into Princess Anna. I won't allow it. I won't even consider it."

Councilor Omdahl tilted her head to one side. "You cannot protect her from everything. Certainly not the realities of her social position."

"I am _quite_ aware of what I can and cannot protect my sister from, Councilor. Remember what we have been through." Elsa swallowed. "But I am reasonably certain that Lord Ismester and I combined can at least protect her from having a husband who has no regard for her, no kind feelings, only a desire to use her to further his own ends."

Elsa watched as Councilor Omdahl's face grew quite, quite still. Slowly, she put her teacup and saucer on the desk. "You would risk yourself being used so that she won't be."

"Indeed."

"That could be dangerous for Arendelle. Have you thought about that?"

"Not as dangerous as letting her be the cats-paw for a man—a man like Hans Westergaard." Elsa swallowed and breathed deep. Even nine months dead, the man still inspired a fear in her like none other. "There is _very_ little I would not do to keep my sister safe – and I believe the entire world knows that at this point."

Councilor Omdahl's jaw fell, her stained red lips making a round O.

Elsa watched as the Councilor reached again for the teacup. She started stirring. Based on the way the spoon rattled against the china, Elsa could guess that there was practically no liquid left in the cup.

But this time it was Councilor Omdahl who would not meet her eyes. This time it was the Councilor whose brows were furrowed, thinking. This time it was someone else making the nervous gestures, the telltale expressions.

"You won't be dissuaded no matter what anyone says, will you?" asked Councilor Omdahl. "You'll find arguments until your face goes blue."

Elsa's only answer was to fold her hands on the desk again and raise one eyebrow.

"If that's the case … well, I withdraw any objections I had. This is not an issue I see fit to risk my career over."

"Thank you, Councilor," Elsa replied. "Your support is appreciated."

"But understand, Your Majesty," Councilor Omdahl went on, "the governor and the legislature in Sorgaland will not be happy with me. They are afraid that what Lord Ismester did with the ice harvesters … they're afraid it will spread. The last thing they want is for the laboring classes to get ideas. If I lend you my support on this, I will at some point have to call on your aid to appease my constituents."

Elsa nodded. "You will not find me forgetful. Or ungrateful. I am sure we will be able to come to some sensible arrangement."

"Excellent, Your Majesty," Councilor Omdahl replied. "I am sure we will."

* * *

><p>Lady Sylvi was next. Somehow, when she came in, it seemed wholly natural for both women to stand by the window, spending a few moments in silence and watching the children – and Olaf – playing in the courtyard below.<p>

"It's nice," Lady Sylvi remarked, "being able to hear the laughter of children without being able to make out what they're saying."

"At least they're not playing keep away with Olaf's head today," Elsa replied. "Or any other portion of his anatomy, for that matter."

Lady Sylvi chuckled. It was a low, comfortable sound, the sort that seemed designed to soothe ruffled feathers and add an element of ease and comfort to virtually any setting. Elsa wondered how she had learned it, and whether she was offering lessons.

"It was kind of you to open up the courtyard to children," Lady Sylvi went on. "I never have to worry about Young Sam when he's playing here."

Elsa could have said any number of things in reply to that. She could have answered that letting the children come to Olaf was probably a much better idea in the long run than letting Olaf have the run of the town and finding children whom he wanted to play with. She could have said that she, too, found the laughter of children soothing. She could have pointed out that children were her most popular demographic, and any politician would have to be stupid to discount her most popular demographic. She could have even said that she was trying to recapture a childhood she and Anna had missed.

Any one of those things would have been true. That was why Elsa didn't say them.

"It's a small thing," was all Elsa would reply. "But shall we sit, my lady?"

"If you wish," Lady Sylvi replied.

Somehow – Elsa was not quite sure how this happened – she found herself gravitating toward the sofa. She waved Lady Sylvi toward the chairs, and Lady Sylvi took the one opposite Elsa.

They sat in a silence that managed to be companionable. Then Lady Sylvi smiled and shook her head. "I wish I could be of more help to you and Princess Anna, Your Majesty. Unfortunately, my colleagues seem to be under the impression that because of my … personal stake in the matter, my opinions are somehow invalid."

Elsa allowed her eyebrows to faintly rise. "It seems they have things rather backward."

"So I say, but nobody seems to be listening to me." Lady Sylvi rolled her eyes. Elsa managed a small smile.

"Lady Sylvi …" Elsa started, then hesitated. "This question may be … rather personal … but …"

"Oh?" she asked.

"Was it—forgive me—was it difficult after you married Captain Vilmarsen? I mean socially," Elsa hurried to add, because she could just imagine all the ways being married to Captain Samuli Vilmarsen could be described as "difficult," and she was quite sure there were a few things she couldn't imagine.

"Ah. Do you mean, did I encounter a certain amount of ostracism after marrying a man who was not only a policeman, but the sort of policeman who forgot that he was supposed to knock at the servants' door and who made a point to never bother to wipe his dirty boots when he came inside?" Lady Sylvi asked, a chuckle in her throat and a sparkle in her eye.

"Er … yes," Elsa admitted.

Lady Sylvi nodded. "Then—to answer your question—yes and no. I received fewer invitations to parties that I never wanted to attend in the first place. I was rather pointedly snubbed by people I didn't particularly wish to talk to. However, when it came to the people whom I considered to be my friends, I didn't encounter many problems of that variety. But you know I might not be typical in that regard. I had a rather consuming hobby before I married, and the people whom I knew from that hobby … well …"

Elsa nodded, threading her fingers together and rubbing her hands. Lady Sylvi had years to form strong friendships. Until a year and a half ago, Anna had been trapped in this castle, cut off from the outside world.

_The past is in the past, Elsa. Stop worrying about it._

"However, I will say that your parents did make things easier," Lady Sylvi went on.

Elsa looked up. "They—they did?"

"Indeed," Lady Sylvi replied. "You probably don't remember – you would have been quite young. About twelve, I think."

Elsa tried not to wince. Twelve had been when her powers, which until then had grown at a slow but steady pace, started strengthening rapidly every day. Never mind remembering, in order to have remembered, she would have had to have been paying attention in the first place.

"But your parents," Lady Sylvi went on, "especially your mother, were very … welcoming. Your mother was one of the first to call on me after Sam and I got back from our wedding trip. And she'd always find a pleasant word for me when we were at the same parties. It's a bit hard to snub someone," Lady Sylvi chuckled, "when the Queen is doing the exact opposite."

Elsa looked at her skirts with a bit of a smile. Of course her mother would have been accepting, welcoming. She'd had a warm heart and a sunny nature, and she'd never been one to stand for things that she thought were foolish.

Rather like Anna, really.

"Your parents also sent a lovely gift for Young Sam's naming," Lady Sylvi continued. "Two of them, actually. A silver tankard – the traditional sort of thing – and a darling little stuffed dragon. I think … your mother might have made the dragon herself?"

It was phrased as a question, and so deserved an answer. "I think—I think she might have," Elsa replied. "My mother loved to work on things with her hands – she made dolls for Anna and me when we were little. And … so many other things, over the years."

There was a pair of gloves she'd gotten for her sixteenth birthday. The gloves themselves had been constructed by a glover, but they had been decorated with delicately stitched rosemaling that had Queen Idun's signature all over it.

Elsa still had those gloves. She'd worn them only on special occasions, and after the Great Thaw, when Anna had spoken quite seriously of burning those "horrible things," or maybe freezing them, or perhaps throwing them into the fjord, Elsa had nodded along and made sure that _those_ gloves were rolled up in a chemise, where Anna wouldn't think to look.

(In the end, they had settled for tossing Elsa's other gloves into the fjord.)

"She was a wonderful woman," Lady Sylvi murmured. "And I think she would have been quite happy to see how happy Princess Anna is with Lord Ismester."

Elsa gasped and looked up. "You—you think so?" Then she kicked herself. A Queen shouldn't sound that eager, that desperate for validation, especially not from one of her councilors whom she still barely knew.

"I do. Any parent would."

Elsa snorted. And somehow, even though she knew that this was hardly proper, she decided to say what she was thinking anyway. "I don't think my father would have been all that thrilled."

Lady Sylvi narrowed her eyes, thoughtful. "Perhaps not at first," she admitted. "But I think he would have warmed up to the idea."

_Maybe_, Elsa thought, but didn't really believe it.

"But you knew him better than I did," Lady Sylvi continued. "All the same – _I_ for one certainly believe that you're doing the right thing. And I'll continue to try to convince my colleagues of it. Moller is a lost cause, but one of these days I'll get somewhere with Jorn."

Elsa glanced up, smiling. "I hope you do. And I thank you. Your—your support is very much appreciated. If there is ever anything I can do to make things easier for you – or for Letemark …"

"From what I'm given to understand, the boys at the station house can always use a new dartboard," Lady Sylvi chuckled, "but other than that, I can't think of anything. Anyway, one shouldn't charge a fee for following one's conscience."

_How refreshing,_ Elsa thought as she and Lady Sylvi finished the meeting the desultory small talk.

_If only everyone thought like that._

* * *

><p>"Good morning, Your Majesty. I hope this day finds you well?"<p>

"Good morning, Councilor Steensen. It certainly does, and I can only hope the same for you." Sitting up a little straighter in her desk chair, Elsa forced a careful, polite smile across her face. "Please, have a seat."

Councilor Steensen sat. He was already smiling, but the smile didn't reach his eyes, which were magnified by the owlish spectacles he wore. Strange, how easy Elsa found it to be to meet his eyes – probably because they were the easiest part of him to read. The rest of him moved like his body was a puppet controlled by strings, meant to paint a certain picture but never entirely succeeding.

"Well!" Elsa took a deep breath. "I'm sure you have a great deal to do today, Councilor, so I shan't beat around the bush. Have you given more thought to the question of Princess Anna's marriage?"

"I have," he replied. "I still do not think it would be best for the realm. However …"

Elsa watched as he began to tap on the armrest of his chair, faintly frowning.

"I think …" Councilor Steensen went on, "there is a long way between what's _best_ for the realm and what is _bad_ for the realm – and I am not at all convinced that this marriage would be bad for the realm."

"How wonderful it is to have your confidence," Elsa replied, trying not to make it sound sarcastic.

Councilor Steensen smiled, another smile that didn't reach his eyes. "Thank you. And all of that being said, I think that if certain … reforms were to accompany Princess Anna's marriage, it could be even be a good thing for the realm."

_And here we go._

Elsa leaned back, hands neatly folded on the desk before her. She forced a smile. After all, she'd explicitly invited horse-trading, hadn't she? It was only a matter of time before someone took her up on it, and not just with vague requests for later favors.

Frankly, it was a surprise it had taken this long.

"And what were you thinking, Councilor?"

"Ironically or no, what I was thinking involves the ice trade, of all things. My constituents, as you know, feel that there are certain … inefficiencies that could stand to be rectified."

Elsa felt the smile drop away. Buskefold was a center of the ice trade, but if Elsa knew Councilor Steensen as well as she thought she did, he wasn't thinking about the ice harvesters. He was thinking about the men on the other end of the trade – the owners of the ice houses, the merchants and traders, and the wealthy who sought a finger in every pie. Especially the wealthy.

"Inefficiencies such as …?" Elsa asked.

"I'll admit that my constituents view the ice harvesters' guild as chief among them," Councilor Steensen began.

"How interesting, since I believe that the Buskefold ice harvesters joined the guild in greater numbers than any other province," Elsa replied. "In terms of percentages, that is, not just raw numbers."

Councilor Steensen opened his mouth and shut it again. "Well—yes," he admitted, "which is why, though my … closer constituents, let us say, would probably want me to ask you to end the guild, or at least withdraw your support from it, I shan't be asking that."

_Wait, what?_

"The guild is here to stay, and frankly, so is Lord Ismester's advocacy. But you have to admit, Your Majesty, his advocacy _is_ rather one-sided. No one appreciates the dangerous and demanding work of the ice masters more than my constituents do, but they're hardly the only ones putting their talents and their personal fortunes on the line to build a stronger ice trade for all of us."

Elsa raised one eyebrow. "Go on."

"So it's only fair that you seek to aid … my constituents as well as the ice harvesters," Councilor Steensen went on. "Particularly in regards to the lake licensing."

Elsa nodded slowly, thinking. "I have to admit, Councilor, I am not sure what is inefficient about the current system? Making sure each harvester is licensed to work on a particular lake ensures that the lakes are harvested evenly and reduces the chances of accidents coming from too many men on ice that isn't strong enough to support them all."

"And nobody would argue that safety is not an extremely important consideration. However, Your Majesty, do you think that a bureaucrat sitting in his – or her – safe and warm office is going to be the best judge of this risk? I think that the men on the ice are better judges of when conditions are not safe and how many men can safely work on the ice at a time. A bureaucrat will be inclined to be overly cautious, introducing inefficiency that we truly can't afford."

"Yet the licensing also ensures that the government can track who is harvesting where, and allows us to keep tighter control over the supply," Elsa replied. "I understand that ice comes back every year, but over-harvesting can be a danger if we're not careful."

"Quite, quite. Cut down the forest today, and what will you use for firewood tomorrow?" Councilor Steensen replied. "But really, I'm not arguing against the idea of licensing. What I would suggest would just be a small change. Instead of selling licenses to individual harvesters, why not sell one per lake?"

"One per lake," Elsa repeated.

"Indeed. It's quite a simple scheme, when you think about it. One merchant buys the license for a whole lake, and then he can hire ice harvesters to harvest it. The ice harvesters get a constant, steady wage – much better than having their incomes vary wildly with the fluctuations of the market – and the merchant gets the ice, to be sold in the way that is most profitable for him. Everyone wins," Councilor Steensen replied.

It sounded lovely. Elsa had to admit that much. And she knew how variable an ice harvester's income could be. Hadn't Kristoff and Anna met because Kristoff was out of money and out of supplies, and they met at the same trading post?

Except …

Except it wouldn't be that simple. Because what Councilor Steensen was proposing was how the forest licensing system worked. When the forests on crown lands first began to be licensed for lumber production, everyone had agreed that it would be spectacularly inefficient to license individual woodcutters. Instead larger tracts had been licensed, with strict quotas dictating how much wood was allowed to be cut at any one time. (That was why Arendelle still _had_ virgin forest, when most of the continent had cut theirs down centuries ago.)

The results, at least on paper, were good. The lumber trade was booming, and they still had forests. However, the woodcutters who risked life and limb to create this trade were the lowest-paid of anyone in the business, and none of the licensers took care to improve safety if it threatened to eat into profits. The woodcutters, everyone said, knew the risks when they went into the business. It wasn't the licensers' task to move heaven and earth to make an inherently dangerous job somehow less dangerous.

And whether the large licensers would listen to the guild – or even allow guild men to work on their lakes at all – if Elsa was being fair, she would say that it remained to be seen. If she was being realistic, then she had to say she doubted there would be listening to or employment of guild harvesters.

"Councilor, I have to say, this sounds like a way to get rid of the guild by circumventing it, if not by direct action."

"Not at all," Councilor Steensen replied. "After all, there's nothing to stop the government from requiring that the licensers sell at guild rates."

"Or prohibit them from discriminating against guild harvesters when it comes to hiring?" Elsa asked.

Councilor Steensen's mouth fell open. "I … I suppose that's the case," he admitted.

_A point for me,_ Elsa thought, barely holding back a smile.

"Councilor Steensen, can I be blunt?" she asked.

"Certainly."

"I can't see how this arrangement will be good for the ice harvesters," she started. "You can say what you like about steady wages, but we both know that the wages won't be as steady as that. When times are hard, the harvesters will be out of a job. When times are good, they might have slightly higher wages. And they will no longer be their own men, which I think will go very hard with them."

"Well—" Councilor Steensen began, waving his hand.

"I am not finished, Councilor. There are far more ice harvesters than there men who can afford to buy the license for an entire lake. Why aren't you worried about them punishing your party at the polls?" Even if Councilor Steensen wasn't directly elected, if his party lost the governor's post or the majority in the provincial legislature, it was practically expected that the governor would request that Elsa dismiss him so the province could choose a new representative.

Councilor Steensen smirked. "Because, Your Majesty, the ice harvesters won't be any more pleased with this marriage than my constituents."

Elsa blinked. _What?_

"Lord Ismester is popular with them," Councilor Steensen went on, "but that's because when he's out in the field with them, he delivers results. When he's stuck in the palace … well, that's when things start to get tricky. Don't you remember from last winter and spring?"

Elsa flushed a bit. "Those were … any new endeavor will have growing pains." _And Kristoff had a broken leg!_

"You know that. I know that," Councilor Steensen replied. "The ice harvesters? They only know that when Lord Ismester was in the palace, things got hard for them. When he was out with them? They became much easier.

"The truth is," Councilor Steensen leaned back, "nobody in Buskefold – at least in the ice harvesting business – is going to be happy with this marriage. I can refuse my support with impunity. True, _you_ could dismiss me, but you'll find that every man Governor Bergfalk sends to replace me has the same views, for the same reasons. However, if you go along with my proposal, you'll get my vote – and I'll have something to show for it to my most powerful constituents, the men who take the long view, who will understand what I've done and who will do their utmost to ensure that my party is rewarded for it at the polls. The ice harvesters? Your Majesty, with all due respect, they might not even remember this vote by the time the elections next come around."

Elsa bit her lip and breathed deeply. "I see. Very well. I'll think on your proposal, Councilor Steensen. I will … I will let you know my decision when I've spoken to the rest of the councilors and have had time to think on it."

Councilor Steensen smiled. "Thank you, Your Majesty. I'm sure you'll make the best decision, once you've had time to think it over."

Elsa had to grind her teeth as he made his way out of the room.

* * *

><p>Madam Voll came after lunch, a meal that Elsa forced herself to leave her study to eat, because greeting one of her councilors with a tray of untouched food would be supremely embarrassing. Still, she was quiet and distracted while she ate, and once she got back to her study, she was back to work on the problem.<p>

How in the gods' name was she going to get nine votes? She was drawing up pro/con lists even now, testing the waters of dismissing a councilor or going along with Councilor Steensen's idea, and as Anna would have said if she saw the list, that was never a good sign.

She was so deep in thought that she jumped and frosted her desk over when Master Moller knocked at her door to announce Madam Voll, and she was still trying to thaw it out when the small woman made her way in.

Madam Voll frowned when her eyes fell on the desk. "Everything all right, my dear?"

"Yes—yes, of course. Sorry." Elsa closed her eyes and thought of snowball fights with Anna. When she opened them, the creeping frost was gone. She looked up with an apologetic smile. "Sometimes I think I should just get white furniture in here."

"Or perhaps something with a frost inlay or painted pattern. That could be fun!" Madam Voll took the seat that Elsa waved her to, digging her knitting out of her reticule. "But truly, what's the trouble?"

"I …" Elsa shrugged. "I still have four negative votes. At least—to the best of my knowledge. But I doubt Councilor Vang will change his mind anytime soon."

Part of her balked – why was she telling Madam Voll this? Wasn't it a breach of etiquette?

But … who else could she tell?

"Still have four? That means that no one else has gone negative?" Madam Voll nodded. "Well, that's something to be thankful for, at least."

Elsa smiled. "I don't suppose you have any ideas that might help me talk the others around?"

"Hmm. Have you seen Steensen yet? Has he tried to make a deal?"

"He … did …"

"And it's not a deal you're willing to accept?" asked Madam Voll, her eyes locked onto Elsa's, even if Elsa's gaze fell to the desk.

"It … it's going to make life worse for the ice harvesters. Certainly in the short term, and possibly in the long term as well." Elsa rubbed her temple. "Perhaps I ought not to be favoring them so much …"

"Steensen," Madam Voll replied, "works for the people in his party. You, however, are everybody's Queen. You've done quite a bit for everyone in the ice trade recently, and if the ice harvesters are getting a slightly bigger slice of the pie than they used to, well, it's a bigger pie."

Elsa looked up with a faint smile. "Have you been speaking with Treasurer Akselsen?"

"No, but I've worked with the man for over a decade, and I've picked up a few things. Trust me, ice guild or no ice guild, the bigwigs in Buskefold should have no reason to complain about what you've done with the ice harvesters."

"… Perhaps," Elsa murmured. "But if I don't take his proposal—"

"Or Halvor's," Madam Voll interrupted. "Halvor Vang was on your grandfather's Council, Your Majesty. I wouldn't put it past him to have something he's willing to trade for a yes vote."

Elsa glanced at her lists. "I can't imagine what it would be. You … you know him. He can be very set in his views."

She tapped her fingers on the desk. That was the trouble, wasn't it? All of them were set in their views.

"Well, if you can't talk any one of them around, you can always sack one," Madam Voll replied.

"Ye-es …" Elsa replied.

"But?"

Elsa shook her head. "It's a scandal. If—if I have to—so be it. But … can you imagine what the papers will make of it?"

Madam Voll blinked. She whistled. "That … is a good point."

"I can see the headlines now," Elsa sighed. "Queen Fires Councilor for Petty Disagreement."

"Do you really think your sister's happiness is a petty reason?" Madam Voll blinked.

"Of course not. But the papers will."

"Certain papers, certain papers. Albeit they're the ones that people in the – well, in the political set are more likely to read. Hmm." Madam Voll hunched in on herself, her knitting needles clacking furiously as she tried to work through the problem. Elsa watched as the yarn transformed itself into a … well … rather lumpy … something.

"But you still don't know what Halvor is going to suggest?" asked Madam Voll, looking up.

Elsa shook her head. "He's meeting with me at two-thirty today."

"Hmm. Well, you know, it's my opinion that Halvor, at this stage in life, wants nothing more than a full state funeral, if you know what I mean?" Madam Voll's eyebrows waggled. A full state funeral was standard fare for any councilor who died while in office. Retired or former councilors didn't always get quite the same send-off. "He could have something in mind. Something you're likely to agree to."

Elsa glanced at her lists. "Perhaps …"

"Just be patient, Your Majesty. I'm sure a solution will present itself. Just as it will for this hat," Madam Voll held up her knitting, "if I can ever figure out where I dropped that last stitch."

* * *

><p>Even if speaking with Madam Voll had improved her spirits somewhat, when Councilor Vang came in, all Elsa could think of was that he was aiming for a full state funeral.<p>

That was not helpful.

So Elsa tilted her chin up, rolled her shoulders, and forced a serene smile onto her lips as they made their way through the pleasantries and greetings. _Conceal, don't feel._

_And for the love of the gods, don't laugh!_

Once Councilor Vang had made himself comfortable, had been offered refreshment, and had refused it, he turned the conversation to the point of the meeting. "Well, Your Majesty, I have given a great deal of thought to your proposal. I wish to be abundantly clear about my objections to this match. At the end of the day, Kristoff Bjorgman is a no-name ice harvester with no antecedents to speak of. Regardless of the title you have given him and the personal virtues he may possess, the idea that his children might someday sit on the throne of Arendelle is – well, it's insupportable, that's all there is to it.

"However, that being said," Councilor Vang went on, "even if Princess Anna and … Lord Ismester have the dozen children they profess to want, there are ways to ensure that those children do not inherit the throne."

Elsa took a deep breath and folded her hands together. "Indeed." There was no amount of willpower that could have prevented the hint of frost in her tone. "And what might those ways be?"

"There are two," Councilor Vang replied. "I'll admit that the first I considered was a morganatic marriage."

_Morganatic marriage._ Elsa forced herself to nod. She had considered this as a backup plan to a backup plan. Kristoff and Anna's marriage would be legally valid, their children legitimate, but the children would be barred from inheriting the throne or any of Anna's other titles or properties.

But it wasn't ideal – well, that was an understatement. It was just one short step up from letting Anna and Kristoff live in sin. It was marking Kristoff and his children as unworthy, lesser. Kristoff and Anna deserved better than that. Kristoff and Anna's children deserved better than that.

"Are you willing to consider a morganatic marriage?" asked Councilor Vang, perhaps reading something on her face that she hadn't meant to show.

"Only if I have to," Elsa replied, "and only then if Princess Anna and Lord Ismester fully support the idea."

"Which, since they are young and in love," Councilor Vang spoke as if those were backhanded insults, "they probably would, if it allowed them to wed. Unfortunately, it occurred to me that such a solution would be almost as bad, from the commoners' perspective, as forbidding the marriage entirely. Princess Anna is extremely popular among all walks of society, and as for Lord Ismester, it's no surprise that those in the lower orders should embrace him as one of their own."

Elsa watched as Councilor Vang frowned and heard a faint _tap, tap, tap_ coming from the other side of the desk. "Arendelle has largely escaped the – the revolutionary fervor that threatened to sweep over much of the continent. As loathe as I am to admit it, part of this is because our rulers have taken pains not to upset or provoke the commons."

"Considering the bloodshed and strife that tends to accompany such fervor," Elsa replied, "I, for one, am willing to take the steps that are necessary, especially if the only price we pay is a bit of pride."

"Oh, indeed," Councilor Vang replied, "I'm not saying it's wrong—I simply lament that it should be necessary. However, that's neither here nor there. No. Besides upsetting the commons, a morganatic marriage has another key disadvantage, and that is that it creates difficulties with the succession. If Princess Anna were to die legally heirless, to whom would the throne pass?

"And then I recalled," Councilor Vang continued, "that though Princess Anna is your heiress, she is not your heiress apparent. She is your heiress presumptive. There is a way to ensure that her children with Lord Ismester will not take the throne that virtually no one will object to – indeed, a way that would be a cause for celebration."

He was smiling. _He was smiling_. Elsa's hands began to tremble, and she dropped them to her lap.

She took a deep breath and held it, forcing herself to count each second, trying to keep her mind calm.

"I refer, of course," Councilor Vang went on, "to your own marriage, and to the blessed occasion that will be the birth of your first child."

_Oh gods!_

Almost without meaning to, Elsa created a ball of snow and ice to hold in her lap and squeeze. Hard. The ball was more snow than ice, the spikes and sharps pricking her palm.

She barely noticed.

"I—it has occurred to me that, once Anna married, it would be—necessary for me to wed. That I would face greater—impetus to wed." _Breathe, Elsa. Breathe. In, out, in, out._ She had to look like she wasn't gasping and gulping like a fish. "I—I assure you, I have every intention of doing my duty to Arendelle."

Councilor Vang shook his head, almost—pitying? "Your Majesty, intentions, in this case, are not enough. The sooner you are married to a suitable husband, the better. In fact … if you were to be married within six months of Princess Anna's wedding, that would be ideal."

Elsa's eyes went wide. "Six _months_? Are you—" _MAD?!_ She bit back, only barely.

The Councilor blinked, his jaw falling.

"To—to find a candidate—negotiate a contract—and plan a wedding—in _six months_? That—that's not enough time." Elsa was shaking her head, almost without meaning to. "Not enough time. Not _nearly_ enough time."

"Your Majesty—"

"Negotiations alone can take months—years. You, _you_ should know this. With your experience!" Elsa exploded. "If—gods only know what kind of concessions another country could force from us, if they had any idea we were operating under such a tight deadline. And then—then there's the matter of _finding_ someone—"

"Your Majesty," Councilor Vang interrupted, and Elsa was glad, for it gave her a chance to catch her breath. "I think I speak for the majority of the Council, the peers, and even the commons when I point out that Ambassador Solberg would be a most suitable husband."

Elsa's eyes went wide, and if there was any reason to doubt how she was feeling, the Arctic chill that swept over the room soon dispelled it.

"Your Majesty?" Councilor Vang, looking around the room with wide, almost frightened eyes.

_Fear will be your enemy …_

_NO! Love will thaw! Love will thaw!_

Elsa squeezed her eyes shut. Perhaps it was inevitable given the focus of their conversation, but the first love that came to her mind was Nick.

Nick taking her stargazing, his hand on the small of her back as he showed her Saturn, Jupiter, the Pleiades, and all the other stars in the sky.

Nick grinning, his hands moving almost of their own accord as he talked about the studies taking place in other countries, trying to determine what the stars were made of, how far away they were, and whether people could ever someday reach them.

Nick sitting by her side at a summertime picnic, his hand in hers, her sketchbook open in their joined laps, flipping through designs of ice castles and decoration one by one.

Nick somehow always finding her in the shadows at state balls and functions, laughing together, holding hands or daring small touches when they thought they were unobserved.

Nick in the gardens after the ball celebrating the one year anniversary of the Great Thaw, holding her close, delicious kisses seen by no one but the moon.

Nick seeing her ice palace for the first time, the look of wonder, the whispered, _"Elsa, you … you _made_ this?"_

Elsa could not be sure which memory did the trick, but when she opened her eyes again, her heart was hammering and her breathing was far too fast. The room, however, was warm.

Unfortunately, Councilor Vang still looked alarmed. "Your—Your Majesty—"

"There are reasons why—why Ambassador Solberg and I are not officially courting," Elsa forced herself to say. "Private reasons that have nothing to do with the state."

"Do—do you not think he would be a good husband?" asked Councilor Vang. His brows were knit together, his words uncertain.

_More that I'm nowhere near ready to be a wife._ Elsa closed her eyes and pinched her nose, drawing in what strength she could with a deep breath. "When you announce to the world that you are courting, the world wants to know when you will be engaged – and from there, when you will be married."

"Well, yes, obviously, but—" Councilor Vang started.

Elsa glared at him.

Councilor Vang stopped.

Elsa heard the telltale crack of a knuckle, more _tap, tap, taps_, and knew that neither had come from her.

"How about—a compromise," Councilor Vang suggested. "That—that you must marry, and sooner rather than later, but—instead of forcing you to squeeze a wedding, negotiations, etc. into six months—which, now that I think that we will be negotiating with the Weasels, perhaps six months following Princess Anna's wedding isn't quite enough time—you simply must announce your engagement within those six months. That will give you more time for … for, well, everything."

_Announce an engagement within six months of Anna's wedding. All right. That … _Elsa closed her eyes. She could work with that.

_But …_

She needed to think. Because there was a voice in her head reminding her that she didn't have to do this. She had another option.

There was another voice reminding her that she still hadn't heard from Minister Falk … and considering she had no idea what he would say …

To agree to anything would be premature.

"Councilor, I—thank you. I cannot agree to anything at present – I have to consider all of the proposals that I have been given," Elsa said, raising hand in case he thought to protest. "But I do thank you for that consideration. Rest assured, your proposal … if I believe that it is what is best for Arendelle, I will agree to it. I take if that if I give you my word on this matter, you will lend your approval to Princess Anna's marriage?"

"I shall indeed," Councilor Vang replied, nodding. He narrowed his eyes. "Are you—forgive this presumption—but you are all right now?"

Elsa nodded. It was easy to say what needed to be said. "I'm fine."

"Good. Good. Well, with that—if it is all right with you—I will take my leave of you, Your Majesty."

They bid their polite farewells, and Councilor Vang made his way to the door. But before he could open it, he paused.

"Your Majesty—you know—marriage is hardly frightening," he said, turning around. "I was married over forty years. They were—well, they had their ups and downs, of course, but all in all … they were some of the best of my life."

Elsa took that in the spirit in which it was meant, nodding graciously. "Thank you, Councilor. I will certainly keep that in mind."

* * *

><p>Her head was still whirling when Minister Falk came in, the last meeting she had before it was time to go and change for dinner.<p>

But she had to keep up appearances, even though the sight of him made her stomach tie in knots. By rights Minister Falk ought to have had the biggest say in the decision of Anna's marriage. By rights he should have helped in the search. But Anna had found her husband-to-be all on her own, and after the debacle with Hans, neither sister had been eager to deal with more princes.

So now Elsa needed to win his support for Anna's marriage, and she had no idea what he actually thought.

His face didn't betray much, nor did his bearing. He smiled, he bowed, he made cheerful small talk. He asked how Elsa's Yule holiday had been, and she asked how his had gone. And so on, until Elsa had no choice but to focus their discussion on the matter at hand.

"So, Minister. I … I must apologize for not bringing the matter of Princess Anna's marriage to your attention … sooner …"

Minister Falk waved away her concerns. "Your Majesty, that was no slight. Anyone with eyes can see how Lord Ismester and Princess Anna feel about each other. It was a matter of time before they were engaged. It was my duty to raise my objections to the potential match to you before that occurred."

"Your objections," Elsa took a deep breath. Of course there would be objections. The man in charge of her foreign policy couldn't have anything but objections. "Very well—let us hear them."

However, instead of launching on a tirade, Minister Falk shrugged. "It's a missed opportunity, is all. Princess Anna's marriage could have helped us form a strong alliance. With your father being an only child, we didn't have as many opportunities for them in the past generation as we would have liked.

"However," he continued, "as I said, I should have brought that up to you months ago, when it might have done some good. As it is, parting the two of them isn't worth the heartache. Enough rumors about them have left our shores that just about everyone we might form an alliance with has already heard them, and that … well, explaining that away won't be pleasant, and it will damage Princess Anna's prospects, like it or not."

"Ah," Elsa replied. "So you … have no objections?"

Was it going to be this easy? Was she going to get an eighth vote? She'd need one more, but at least she had options for that …

And if Minister Falk supported her, it would make everything look so, so much better.

But Minister Falk didn't answer right away.

"To be honest, Your Majesty …" He scratched the back of his head. "The truth is, Princess Anna's marriage greatly limits your options – for marriage, I mean – and it does force you to move perhaps more quickly than you would have liked. Even without Councilor Vang getting in the middle of it."

Elsa's eyes went wide. "You—you _know_ …?"

Minister Falk nodded. "He sounded me out before he came to you, I believe. Wanted to know if there were strenuous objections to a match with Weselton, and how long I thought negotiations might take. It wasn't hard to put the pieces together from there."

"… Oh," Elsa murmured. "And you … told him …?"

Minister Falk shook his head. "That's not as important, Your Majesty. What is important is – well – let me put it like this. You stopped your sister from marrying the first man she ever thought of in a … marrying way."

Elsa's heart skipped a beat. "It's not the same thing."

"Your Majesty—"

"No. No. Even if—even if I am considering—and we haven't even talked about—" Elsa ground her teeth, gulped, and forced her thoughts back onto a single path. "There is a world of difference between knowing someone for a single night and knowing them for a year."

"Certainly. But if the reason you're rushing into marriage is because you're afraid that this is your best and only chance … well …"

Elsa covered her mouth and looked away. "It's not the same," she forced herself to say.

Minister Falk didn't answer right away. When he did, it wasn't at all to the point. "Your Majesty … your father and I were friends, you know."

Elsa looked up, one eyebrow raised slightly.

"I know where he kept the brandy," he said, nodding to Elsa's desk, "because it was often we'd have a glass together after things were—well—_difficult_ in Council, or after negotiating with certain parties, or … well, you get the idea. And we talked, you know, about more than just politics and policy. He talked about you and your sister often, you know, especially about what he wanted for you and Princess—"

"Please. Stop," Elsa interrupted. It was all she could to keep from cringing. "I am—I am quite aware that my father would not be happy to see An—Princess Anna wed to a commoner. I do not care. He—he is not here now, and I must rule as I see fit."

"Your Majesty," Minister Falk replied, "that wasn't what I was going to say."

Elsa knit her brows and turned her head slightly to one side.

Minister Falk smiled. "He wanted the two of you to be happy, you know."

Elsa blinked. _Happy?_ That didn't match the Papa she remembered. Oh, certainly, he always looked happy when they were happy – albeit those smiles had grown fewer and fewer as Elsa's teens progressed. But he had always spoken about duty, honor, and the sacrifices required of those who were born to rule.

"_You were born to privilege, Elsa," _he would say, _"and with that comes certain responsibilities."_

"I … I suppose," Elsa replied, because she wasn't sure what else to do other than agree.

"And the last thing he would want would be to see you rush into something you might regret later, because you think you have no other choice. He'd want you to—to at least look at the other options. To have some fun! Be the belle of the ball, be courted and chased."

Now Elsa had to raise an eyebrow. She could, perhaps, see the wisdom of looking at other options … but have fun? Be the belle of the ball? That sounded more like something her mother would have wanted. She had loved to tell stories about her courting days, the young men she'd flirted with, the tricks she and her sister had played on them.

"I—I am not entirely sure—but I suppose—I suppose Pa—my father would have wanted me to see … other options …"

_That won't be so bad,_ Elsa tried to convince herself. It would cost nothing to send out a few diplomatic feelers. If there was a country that had an extremely good offer—well, Elsa could cross (burn) that bridge when she came to it.

Minister Falk nodded. "And it seems to me that Princess Anna's wedding could be an excellent occasion for you to meet a few suitable suitors."

_Wait, what?_ "M-meet?" Elsa stammered. "Surely—surely that won't—I mean—surely we could first see if—if anyone has an offer worth hearing?"

The response she received was a raised eyebrow. "Your Majesty, I assure you, they will all have offers worth hearing."

"Oh … my …" Elsa forced herself to breathe. At least the room wasn't growing cold … yet …

"And as your foreign minister," Minister Falk went on, "I must urge that you not venture into a marriage contract without considering your other options. At least meeting them."

"I thought this was about what my father would have wanted," her voice was perilously close to a snap, "not about your duty as my minister."

"Your Majesty, why can it not be both?"

Elsa closed her eyes for a brief second, breathing in and out, slowly and easily. She gulped.

"If your sister is to wed within the country," Minister Falk went on, "it is even more important to ensure that your marriage—"

"I know. I know!"

Minister Falk didn't answer right away. "Your Majesty … whether you want to work within Councilor Vang's timeline, whatever it might be, is your decision. But I will say this. I cannot, in good conscience, give my vote in favor of Princess Anna's marriage unless I have your word that you will explore your options for your own marriage. You deserve better than to rush into the first option that looks pleasant."

Elsa crossed her arms in front of her chest, hugging herself almost, and swallowed. "Do you have … objections to that option?"

"I have assembled quite a dossier on Ambassador Solberg, if that is what you are asking, Your Majesty. And I give you my word of honor that had I encountered something objectionable, you would have been the first to know about it."

"How comforting," Elsa muttered. "How long?"

"How long …"

"How long have you … suspected?"

Minister Falk smiled. "Watching the two of you when we were negotiating for the treaty last year was … intriguing. But my suspicions were confirmed after the little … _incident_ at the warehouse last winter. The fact that there were no complaints from Weselton whatsoever was quite illuminating."

_Well, there shouldn't have been,_ said a testy voice that Elsa didn't listen to often. _Nick went after me on his own! I tried to get him out of there as soon as I realized what he was doing!_

"I see." Elsa swallowed. "I thank you for respecting my … privacy."

"Of course, Your Majesty."

"And you will not support Princess Anna's marriage without me agreeing to look at … options?"

"Indeed, Your Majesty."

Elsa stared at the desk. "I … see. Well, Minister Falk, you have certainly given me much to think about …" She took a deep breath. "I shall let you know what I decide as soon as possible."

"Of course, Your Majesty. I am at your service." Minister Falk hesitated a moment, then bowed and took his leave of her.

For a moment Elsa was rather proud of herself, for keeping control of herself as well as she had. Not a flake had escaped her, and the room was barely colder than it had been when he entered.

Of course, as soon as Minister Falk left, all of that changed.

And as the storm swirled around her, Elsa took deep breaths, rested her head on the desk, and rode it out. And all through it, one question pounded through her brain.

_What am I going to _do_?_

* * *

><p><strong>What a nice little cliffhanger to leave you all on! Sorry this chapter took so long, by the way – the last week or so has kicked my butt, writing-wise. Hopefully Chapter 11 will be easier to write than Chapter 10 left.<strong>

**Anyway! Thank you blossomjaj988, Van, Jacob Flores, Insectoid, TheHumanCanvas, Penmaster1547, Batman1809, fericita, CrunchDeNumbers, jedijae, and Guest! Thanks especially for commenting even though FFNet blew up for the better part of a day after I posted that update.**

**Hopefully we won't be in for a repeat performance.**

**Hope you all enjoyed the chapter, and I'll see you for Chapter 6!**


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